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f

-■ij-A.

^

I

Interior of King's College Chapel,

From an Etchinj by H. Temsalnt.

CAMBRIDGE

Btief ^tstottcal anD Descnptitie Botes!

BY

J. W. CLARK, M.A.

Formerly Fellow of Trinity College^ Cambridge

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON

SEELEY AND CO. LIMITED

ESSEX STREET, STRAND

1890

CONTENTS

I.

PAGE

The Medieval Town i

n.

The Story- of Peterhouse. The Market Hill 34

III.

Great St. Mary's Church. Clare Hall. Pem-
broke College 67

IV.
The Early Historyof Trinity College . . 94

V.
The Further History of Trinity College . 117

VI.
King's College 142

vi Contents.

VII.

PAGE

King's College {continued) 162

VIII.
St. John's College. Christ's College . .187

IX.

College of St. Mary Magdalene. College and

University Libraries . ' . . .210

X.

GONVILLE and CaIUS COLLEGE. QUEENS' COLLEGE.

Emmanuel College 229

XL

Jesus College 260

XIL

Social Life at Cambridge — "Tis Sixty Years

Since" 282

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Interior of King's College Chapel . Frontispiece

Gate-house of Cambridge Castle, from a View

TAKEN IN 1773 . . .... Page 15

The Round Church ; or Church of the Holy
Sepulchre 21

Interior of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre 25
Corpus Christi College and the Tower of St.
Benet's '. . .29

Peterhouse : Exterior of the South Side of the
Principal Court 37

The Old Conduit 47

Market Hjll; with the New Conduit and St.

Church 51

Gate of Entrance, Clare College, as seen from
THE Interior of the Court .... 87

Oriel Window of the Lodge, Pembroke College,
now destroyed, from the garden . . . 9i

The Great Court of Trinity College ... 99
The Great Gate of Trinity College . . .103
Nevile's Court at Trinity College . . .115
The Cam near Trinity College, with the Tower

OF St. John^s Chapel .119

VIU

List of Illustrations,

South Porch of King's College Chapel

King's College Chapel, from beyond the River

St. John's College

Gate of Entrance, St. John's College .

Gateway in the Third Court of St. John's

The Garden of Christ's College .

Pepysian Library, Magdalene College .

Trinity Hall Library

Carvings in Trinity College Library .

Gate of Virtue at Caius College .

North Side of the Gate of Honour, Caius
College

Bridge of Queens' College, looking North

The Lodge of Queens' College

Chapel and Cloister of Emmanuel College,

the Garden

The Senate House and University Library

East End of Jesus College Chapel, from
New Court

Gate of Entrance to Jesus College

Outer Court of Jesus College, looking to

South-west Corner ....
The Old Bridge of St. John's College .
Gallery in the President's Lodge at Queens'

COLLEGE .....••••

from

the

the

PAGE

149
153

189

195

201
207
213
219

222

239
245
249

253

257

271

275

279
293

3^3

CAMBRIDGE.

I.

The Medieval Town.

WHEN an antiquary examines a Cathedral
which at first sight appears to present
uniformity of design, he not unfi-equently finds
that the choir is of one period, the nave of another,
the transepts of a third; all having been built
long subsequently to the foundation of the primi-
tive church, whose walls and piers must be disin-
terred fi-om underneath the statelier additions of
more recent times. Those who would trace the
history of one of our populous towns are obliged
to pursue much the same process. The fortifica-
tions have been pulled down long ago ; half the
churches have served as quarries out of which the
other half have been built ; and though an old
name of a street may here or there survive, the
primitive town is hidden away under the modern

2

2 Cambridge.

one as completely as is a hermit's cell beneath the
Cathedral raised to commemorate his saintly life.
A University town, however, though it has out-
grown its ancient limits, and been modernised in
diverse ways, is less subject to change than almost
any other. The colleges guard their territories
with jealous care ; they allow of no encroachment ;
they alienate no portion of the sacred soil, except
on rare occasions to some other College, or to the
University, for University purposes ; and, more-
over, they gradually acquire so much property in
the town, that they can regulate, in some degree,
the extent and direction of its development. Thus,
though the colleges of Cambridge have been a
good deal altered and enlarged since their first
foundation, and even since 1690, as is proved by
comparing the existing structures with David
Loggan's engravings, taken shortly before that
year — ^though some have even been entirely re-
built; yet the ancient landmarks have not been
obliterated. Time has dealt gently with them
on the whole ; revolution, notwithstanding all
that has been said to the contrary, has hardly done
them severer injury than the destruction of a
Virgin's head, or the defacement of a royal
scutcheon ; nay, even in regard of ordinary
accidents, they have been singularly fortunate.
In the words of Fuller :

The Fen-land. 3

"Whosoever shall consider in both Universities the ill
contrivance of many chimnies, hollowness of hearths,
shallowness of tunnels, carelessness of coals and candles,
catchingness of papers, narrowness of studies, late reading
and long watching of scholars, cannot but conclude that an
especial providence preserveth those places. How small a
matter hath sometimes made a partition betwixt the fire and
the fuel ? Thus an hair's breadth, fixed by a divine finger,
shall prove as effectual a separation from danger as a mile's
distance. And although both Universities have had sad
accidents in this kind, yet neither in number or nature
(since the Reformation) so destructive as in other places : so
that, blessed be God, they have been rather scare-fires than
hurt-fires unto them."

If, however, the town of Cambridge has been,
on the whole, but little altered by comparison
with other places that have increased with equal
rapidity, a more thorough change has been
wrought in the neighbourhood in the last fifty
years than in most other parts of England in five
hundred. On the one hand, the open country has
been enclosed ; on the other, the Fen-land has
been drained. Let us try to imagine the con-
dition of this latter district in the Middle Age,
when Cambridge was a frontier fortress on the
edge of the great wild that then stretched away
towards the north-east as far as the Wash. It
was crossed by only one great Roman Way, the
Akeman Street, which led from Cambridge to
Brancaster ; and even this carefiilly avoided the

r

4 Cambridge.

low grounds, passing from island to island with
such skill in engineering that not more than nine
miles of fen had to be traversed between Cam-
bridge and the high ground of Norfolk. Right
and left of this causeway stretched a sea of peat-
moss, all but impassable except to those who were
in the secret of its fords and by-ways, traversed
by sluggish rivers, and dotted here and there with
green islands, chief of which was the central
eminence of Ely Isle, the holy hill of Etheldreda,
the Camp of Refuge to which the Saxons fled
when they made their last determined resistance
to the Norman invaders. Notwithstanding all its
drawbacks — the agues and fevers that racked the
inhabitants, the outlaws who plundered them, and
the Danish invaders who could easily ascend the
rivers, and burn and murder after their manner —
the Fen-land must have had a beautv and interest
of its own, such as is always to be found where
Nature is left undisturbed, and bird, and beast,
and insect multiply without the interference of
man. It is all gone now. Two thousand square
miles of the finest corn-land in England have
replaced mere and reed-bed; the amphibious
population of the fen — " yellow-bellies," as their
neighbours of terra firma contemptuously styled
them — have become opulent and portly farmers,
so portly indeed that a big hole in a dyke.

The Fen-land, 5

through which the water was pouring in a storm,
defying all efforts to restrain it, is said to have
been effectually stopped by the simple expedient
of the farmer sitting down in it ; and the soil
that it was once thought impossible, if not im-
pious, to drain, has now become so dry that in
a certain hot summer a few years ago water had
to be pumped into the Fen instead of out of it.
Here and there, as in Wicken Fen, a few acres of
primeval wilderness survive to give us some idea
of what the rest once was. The ground where
the marsh-fern still flourishes is sodden with black,
unwholesome water ; the sedge and the reeds are
breast-high; and in summer-time the great
swallow-tailed butterflies float lazily about as
they did of old. However, as Kingsley said in
his beautiful rapsody on the Fens :

" We shall have wheat and mutton instead, and no more
typhus and ague ; and, it is to be hoped, no more brandy-
drinking and opium-eating ; and children will live and not
die. For it was a hard place to live in, the old Fen, a place
where one heard of ' unexampled instances of longevity,'
for the same reason that one hears of them in savage tribes,
that few lived to old age at all, save those iron constitutions
which nothing could break down."

No doubt the Fen was a hard taskmaster, and
some of those who dwelt in it were not gentle
either, for chains and collars to harness captives.

6 Cambridge.

and chains wherewith slaves were yoked as they
worked, have been found in it ; yet it had a
bright side as well as a gloomy one, and parts of
it were a very paradise of fertility. Here is a
picture of the Isle of Ely, from the Liber
EliensiSy as it appeared in the eleventh century.
The speaker is a French knight who has been
taken prisoner by Hereward, and having been hos-
pitably entertained by him, returns to William's
camp and describes what he had seen :

" In our Isle men are not troubling themselves about the
siege ; the ploughman has not taken his hand from the
plough, nor has the hunter cast aside his arrow, nor does
the fowler desist from beguiling birds. If you care to hear
what I have heard and seen with my own eyes, I will
reveal all to you. The Isle is within itself plenteously
endowed ; it is supplied with various kinds of herbage ; and
in richness of soil surpasses the rest of England. Most
delightful for charming fields and pastures, it is also re-
markable for beasts of chase ; and is, in no ordinary way,
fertile in flocks and herds. Its woods and vineyards are not
worthy of equal praise ; but it is begirt by great meres and
fens as though by a strong wall. In this Isle there is an
abundance of domestic cattle, and a multitude of wild
animals; stags, roes, goats, and hares, are found in its groves
and by those fens. Moreover, there is a fair sufficiency of
otters, weasels, and polecats ; which in a hard winter are
caught by traps, snares, or by any other device. But what
am I to say of the kinds of fishes and of fowls, both those
that fly and those that swim ? In tlie eddies at the sluices
of these meres are netted innumerable eels, large water-
wolyes, with pickerels, perches, roaches, burbots, and lam-

The Fen-land. 7

preys, which we call water-snakes. It is, indeed, said by
many that sometimes salmon are taken there, together with
the royal fish, the sturgeon. As for the birds that abide there
and thereabouts, if you are not tired of listening to me, I will
tell you about them, as I have told you about the rcfL
There you find geese, teal, coots, didappers, water-crowf,
herons, and ducks, more than man can number, especially
in winter or at moulting time. I have seen a handred —
nay, even three hundred — taken at once ; sometimes by
bird-lime, sometimes in nets or snares.'*

This vast prodigality of life has perished with
the morasses and the meres that sheltered it, and
year by year, as drainage becomes more extensive
and more thorough, the Cambridge market is more
scantily furnished from the Fen. The stag, the
roe, and the goat have been long extinct, and
tbeir existence is only revealed to us by the
abundance of their bones that are found in the
all-preserving peat. Many another animal is
proved by the same evidence to have once existed
in the Fen, or near it ; the gigantic aurochs, which,
on the Continent, survived till the Lombard inva-
sion of Italy ; the smaller short-horned ox ; the
wild cat, marten, badger, otter, bear ; and last,
but not least, beaver, in sufficient abundance to
show that there must have been numerous colonies
of them there. The drainage of Whittlesea Mere,
completed in 1850, destroyed the last home of
one of the most remarkable of British insects.

8 Cambridge.

the great copper butterfly ; and of many birds also.
Snipe are said to breed no longer in the Fen ; while
rufis and reeves, godwits, spoonbills, bitterns, and
herons, are almost as much creatures of the past
as the pelican, whose former existence is proved
by a couple of his wingbones preserved in the
Cambridge University Museum.

On the western edge of the Fen-land, where the
higher ground terminates on the left bank of the
Cam in an eminence of considerable height, stood
the Roman station of Camboritum. This com-
manding position had already been taken possession
of by an earlier race, as is shown by the lofty
mound called Castle Hill, probably a British
earth-work. This was included within the pre-
cincts of the Roman fortifications, traces of which
can still be recognised. They measured about
1,650 feet from north to south, by 1,600 feet
from east to west. At this point the Akeman
Street left the Fen, and was crossed, almost at right
angles, by a second Roman Way, the Via Devana^
which ran from Colchester to Chester. The
.situation of Camboritum, at the junction of two
such important roads, probably saved it from the
destruction which overtook so many Roman
towns in the havoc of the English conquest, and
caused it to be at once occupied by the con-
queror. It is not to Cambridge, therefore, but

Camboritum. 9

to some other Roman station that Bede refers,
when he relates how Sexburga, sister of Ethel-
dreda, foundress of Ely, sent to seek a marble
sarcophagus fit to contain the saint's remains,
" The brethren whom she sent," says the his-
torian, " took ship and came to a certain ruined
town at no great distance, which in the English
tongue is called Grantacaestir ; there presently they
found, hard by the walls, a white marble coffin,
exquisitely wrought, with a lid of the same
material." This description does not suit Cam-
bridge, where few Roman remains have been
discovered; but, on the other hand, it suits
Grantchester exceedingly well, a village about
three miles higher up the stream, where there
is a well-marked Roman encampment, and where
there was evidently an extensive cemetery, for
many ancient coffins may still be seen, built into
the walls of the church and churchyard. This
town was apparently early deserted in favour of
Camboritum, which, for the reasons mentioned
above, was the more convenient and important
station.

Camboritum stood nearly opposite to the
northernmost limit of a considerable bend of
the river, which is crossed by a bridge at the
bottom of the hill commanded by the camp or
castle. As there is evidence that the road which

I o Cambridge.

passes over this bridge is the southward extension
of the Via Devana^ it is almost certain that the
river has always been crossed at the same place.
In ancient times fords were used instead of
bridges, and, in fact, in the middle of the last
century, when the bridge was being repaired,
traces of a ford were found in this place. It
may therefore be suggested that Camboritum
signifies " the ford {ritum) at the bend," a name
derived from the position of the high ground,
which effectually commanded the passage of the
river.

In the Middle Ages the name Camboritum
seems to have been either unknown or forgotten ;
Grantebrigge or Cantebrigge is the only name in
use, while the river, if a name more distinct than
" the running water " is used for it, is called le Ee^
or le Rhee, a name which is still applied to the
upper part of its course. The name Granta
reappears on Saxton's map of Cambridgeshire
(1576) ; and in Spenser's '^ Faery Queene " (1590),
under the form Guant :

4i

Next these die plenteous Ouse came far from land,

By many a city and by many a towne,

And many rivers taking under-hand

Into his waters, as he passeth downe,

(The Cle, the Were, the Guant, the Sture, the Rowne),

Thence doth by Huntingdon and Cambridge flit;

The River Cam.' ii

My mother, Cambridge, whom, as with a crowne.

He doth adorne, and is adorn'd of it

With many a gentle muse and many a learned wit.*'

Camden, writing in 1586, recognises the Cam
as well as the Granta : '^ By what name writers
termed this River, it is a question : some call it
GrantUy others Camus'' On Speed's map of
Cambridgeshire (16 10) the name Cam occurs
alone, written twice, once above, and once below,
Cambridge; Milton personifies it as a river-god
in "Lycidas" (1638):

" Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow.
His mantle hairy and his bonnet sedge,
Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge
Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe ; ''

and on Loggan's map of Cambridge (1688) the
words The River Cam are written out in foil,
without any other designation. On the other
hand, so late as 1702, an Act of Parliament for
improving the navigation speaks of the River
Cham^ alias the Grant.

The usefulness of this stream to the inhabitants
of Cambridge — whatever name they gave to It —
was voy great. Until the beginning of the
seventeenth century it supplied them, to a gieat
extent, with water for household use ; and until
the construction of railways it was the principal

12 Cambridge.

highway along which provender of all sorts, fuel,
and heavy goods, were brought to the town.
This explains the ill-feeling excited at different
times as the colleges gradually acquired and closed
up the lanes leading to it. We quote a graphic
description of the advantages derived from the
river which appears in a work called Cantabrigia
Depicta^ published in 1763. The name, it will be
observed, is still 'The Grant.

" The Air of Cambridge is very healthful, and the Town
plentifully supplied with excellent Water, not only from the
River and Aqueduct already mentioned, but from the nume-
rous Springs on every Side of it ; some of them medicinal.
Nor is it better supplied with Water, than it is with other
Necessaries of Life. The purest Wine they receive by the
Way of Lynn: Flesh, Fish, Wild-fowl, Poultry, Butter,
Cheese, and all Manner of Provisions, from the adjacent
Country : Firing is cheap ; Coals from Seven-pence to
Nine-pence a Bushel ; Turf, or rather Peat, four Shillings
a Thousand ; Sedge, with which the Bakers heat th^ir
Ovens, four Shillings per hundred Sheaves : These, to-
gether with Osiers, Reeds and Rushes used in several
Trades, are daily imported by the River Grant, Great
Quantities of Oil, made of Flax-Seed, Cole-Seed, Hemp and
other Seeds, ground or pressed by the numerous Mills in the
Isle of Ely, are brought up this River also; and the Cakes,
after the Oil is pressed out, afford the Farmer an excellent
Manure to improve his Grounds. By the River also they
receive 1500 or 2000 Firkins of Butter every Week, from
Norfolk and the Isle of Eiy^ which is sent by Waggons to
London: Besides which, great quantities are made in the
neighbouring Villages, for the Use of the University and

The Castle. 13

Town, and brought fresh to Market every Day, except
Monday. Every Pound of this Butter is rolled, and drawn
out to a Yard in Length, about the Bigness of a Walking-
Cane ; which is mentioned as peculiar to this Place. The
Fields near Cambridge furnish the Town with the best
Saffron in Europe^ which sells usually from 24 to 30 Shillings
a Pound."

On the site of Roman Camboritum William the
Conqueror founded Cambridge Castle in 1068, on
his return from the conquest of York ; and in the
following year he took up his abode there while
conducting the operations against Ely, where
Hereward was commanding in person. At this
time the town of Cambridge must have been
almost entirely confined to the district round the
Castle, still popularly called the Burgh or Borough ;
and before William came, it evidently occupied
the site of the Roman station, for twenty-seven
houses are said to have been destroyed by him
to make way for the Castle. The fortifications
were confined to the high ground, for it was
clearly needless to guard even the passage of the
river below. Danger was to be expected from
the fen in front, not from the arable land behind,
or from the open grass-covered Gogmagog Hills
to the south-east, whence the great dyke, called
" Devil's Dyke,'' stretched down to the river by
Reche, at the entrance to Burwell Fen, a sure
defence from assailants in that direction. The

1 4 Cambridge.

further history of the Castle is singularly unevent-
ful. No deeds of arms are recorded in connection
with it ; it was never taken, nor, so far as we
know, ever defended. In the first quarter of the
fourteenth century part of it became a prison, and
the rest was gradually pulled down. Edward the
Third built his college of King's Hall with some
of the materials ; Henry the Fifth granted stone
and timbers out of it for the erection of the
chapel of the same ; and in 1441 Henry the Sixth
allowed the provost and scholars of King's
College to make similar use of the hall and a
chamber adjoining, then unroofed and ruinous.
Notwithstanding these grants, the Keep is alluded
to as still standing in 1553 ; and in 1642, when
the Earl of Manchester held Cambridge for the
Parliament, it appears to have been easily put
into an efficient state of defence, with the help of
materials seized fi-om Clare Hall, the rebuilding
of which had been begun shortly before. We
read of breastworks, and bulwarks, and strong
fortifications. These were again demolished at
the restoration of peace ; but the Gate-house
remained until 1842, but little altered from the
appearance it presents in our woodcut, which is
copied from a view taken in 1773. The County
Courts and the Gaol now occupy the site. The
Castle Hill, unoccupied by buildings, is the

_i

1

The Castle Hill. 17

occasional resort of sight-seers, for the sake of
the fine view to be obtained from it. It used to
be a favourite joke to persuade " freshmen " to
mount it, in the hope of " seeing the term divide,"
an operation which they were led to believe was
attended by certain solemn portents when the
Cambridge Calendar announced that "the term
divides at midnight."

At its first origin, then, the town of Cambridge
was limited to a few houses round the Castle, and
along the street leading to and from the ford at
the foot of the Castle Hill. The ford, it must be
remembered, must always have been of great
importance, for it was the only point at which
merchandise and cattle could pass the river on their
way from the Eastern Counties to the Midlands.
It is conceivable, therefore, that even without the
Norman stronghold, and without the University,
a town might have grown up at this spot.

The origin of the University cannot be defined.
It did not spring into being in any particular
year, or at the bidding of any particular founder ;
it grew up gradually, as a voluntary association
of teachers and taught, governed by enactments
framed by the body itself, and sanctioned or
repealed from time to time. It used to be asserted
that it owed its origin to the two great Benedictine
.monasteries of the Fen- land, Croyland and Ely ;

3

\

1 8 Cambridge.

and we know that monks from the latter house
did resort to Cambridge for study at a very early
date. But they would hardly have gone out into
the wilderness to found an institution for which
Croyland or Ely would have afforded an equally
suitable site ; the fact that they came proves that
schools must have been already in existence. More
extended research in monastic archives may elicit
further facts respecting the early connection of the
great religious Orders with Oxford and Cambridge ;
for the present we will be content with the fact
that we owe to the convent of Ely the establish-
ment of the collegiate system at Cambridge.
Bishop Hugh de Balsham, who before his pro-
motion had been sub-prior of the convent, and
may have been a student in the schools of Cam-
bridge, unquestionably founded Peterhouse in
1284.

By the end of the thirteenth century the town
of Cambridge had outgrown the narrow limits
that were sufficient for it when the Castle was
built, and had extended itself over the level
ground on the opposite side of the river, to the
right and left of the Roman road, the course of
which is marked by the long straight street that
runs through Cambridge from north to south, and
is called Bridge Street, Sidney Street, and St.
Andrew's Street, in different parts of its course.

Foundation of Peter house. 19

Nearest to the Castle, on the right of the street,
stood the ^Hospital of St. John, founded, in all
probability, by John Frost, a burgher of Cam-
bridge, — ^though subsequently the Bishops of Ely,
as Baker, the historian of St. John's, says, '* set
up for founders and patrons " of it. Into this
corporation of regular canons Hugh de Balsham
introduced certain secular scholars, under the idea
that they would become " one body and one
college" {unum corpus et unum collegium)^ and
made due provision for their maintenance inde-
pendently of the brethren. The intention was
excellent, the result a failure. The two sets of
occupants of the house quarrelled bitterly from
the first, "the scholars being perhaps too wise,
and the brethren possibly over-good," so that they
had to be separated. The scholars were removed
to the very opposite end of Cambridge, where
lodging was found for them outside the town, in
two hostels hard by a church then called St.
Peter's,, which they were permitted to use as their
chapel. In order to give an idea of what Cam-
bridge was at this time, let us imagine one of
these scholars, on his way from Ely to Cambridge,
to ascend the Castle Hill, and let us try to realise
the view spread out before him.

The town was at that time rather like a pear in
shape, of which the stalk would be represented

\L

20 Cambridge.

by the Bridge, a wooden structure of many arches.
The west side was bounded by the river ; the
east and south by the King's Ditch, constructed
by Henry the Third for the defence of the town*
It left the river just above Queens' College, and
returned to it below the Great Bridge. The
Roman Way ran close to the eastern limit of the
town, at no great distance from the Ditch. About
two hundred yards from the Bridge a second street
branched off to the right, dividing the town into
nearly equal divisions. This, the present Trump-
ington Street, was then called High Street, or
High Ward. At the point where it branched off,
on the left of Bridge Street, stood one of the four
circular churches in England, probably even then
of considerable antiquity, called St. Sepulchre's.
Round it clustered the Jewry, a quarter of con-
siderable extent, for it stretched along the eastern
side of High Street far enough to include All
Saints' Church. Opposite to this church stood
the Hospital of St. John, with extensive gardens
and fish-ponds behind it. Beyond the Hospital,
to the south, there was a dense network of narrow
lanes, with here and there a garden, or a vineyard,
or a wharf along the river bank, separating the
compact masses of dwelling-houses which extended
as far as the Carmelite Friary at the south-west
angle of the town. Close to this the High Street

J

The Medieval Town. Z3

crossed the King's Ditch by a bridge, to the north ,
of which was Trumpington Gate, perhaps a fortified
structure, as the other gates of the town may also
have been. Outside this gate, at the commence-
ment of a straggling suburb, stood the Church of
St. Peter, in the midst of an extensive graveyard.
Beyond it was the House of the Brethren of the
Penance, or Penitence, of Jesus Christ, otherwise
called " Friars of the Sack ; " opposite to which,
on the other side of the street, was that of the
White Canons of Sempringham. Had the eyes
of our imaginary spectator followed the line of
the boundary ditch, which must have been well
marked by the broad band of unoccupied ground —
a sort of boulevard — that extended along it, he
would have seen the then newly-built House of
the Augustinian Friars, with the extensive garden
ground behind it, which became the Botanic
Garden in the last century. Further to the east
again, on the left of the Roman Way, was the
House of the Dominicans, or Black Friars, after
whom that portion of the street was afterwards
called "Preachers' Street." At that time the
House was probably unfinished, but in later days it
became an extensive pile of buildings, with a lofty
church. The outline of the nave may still be
traced within Emmanuel College, whose founder.
Sir Walter Mildmay, in contempt of the old religion.

1

24 Cambridge.

boasted that he had turned the Friars' church into
a dining-hall, and their refectory into a chapel.
Between this and the Round Church was the
Franciscan House, which even then was probably
extensive, but which afterwards possessed a spacious
church, which Ascham described as an ornament
to the University, and of which the foundations in
Fuller's time could still be traced within the pre-
cincts of Sidney Sussex College. At the Reformation
the University tried to obtain a grant of it, but
without success. The solid walls were gradually
destroyed to build other structures, as the items,
" stone from the Grev Friars," in the accounts of
more than one college, conclusively show. These
monastic buildings, except the Dominican Friary,
stood close to the outskirts of the little town,
but still within the precincts. Beyond them
were spacious commons. Cow Fen or Coe Fen,
on the west ; then Saint Thomas' Leas ; and
lastly, the Green-croft, which extended almost
from the Great Bridge to the neighbouring village
of Barnwell. In the midst of it, walled about,
and overshadowed by trees, stood the Benedic-
tine nunnery of St. Rhadegund, afterwards Jesus
College ; while Barnwell would be rendered con-
spicuous by the great Priory Church of St. Giles.

Let us return for a moment to the Church of
the Holy Sepulchre, of which we illustrate the

interior of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

From a dravdng by A. Brand D^bainis.

The Round Church. 27

exterior and the interior. It is reputed to be the
oldest of the English round churches, and to have
been consecrated in 11 01, though its origin and
history are alike unknown. It consists of two
distinct portions : the ancient round church, and
the modern chancel and aisles. This latter portion
was rebuilt in 1844, when the church — then in a
dilapidated and almost ruinous condition — ^was
saved from destruction by the ill-fated Cambridge
Camden Society. The late Decorated style was
selected by the architect, Mr. Salvin, because there
appeared to be evidence that the building which it
replaced had been originally constructed during
that period. It once contained the famous stone
altar, to eject which a decree of the Court of
Arches was found necessary. The details of that
bitter controversy which, for the ,time, divided the
University into two hostile camps, are not worth
reviving. The Society became the object of viru-
lent, and most unjust, attacks, and after the seces-
sion of the Bishops and most of the principal
University dignitaries, headed by the Chancellor,
it was removed to London, where it flourished for
many years under a new name.

The round portion, which, with the addition of,
perhaps, a small apsidal chancel, was the entire
original structure, is forty-one feet in diameter.
It is conjposed of a central area, nineteen feet in

28 Cambridge.

diameter, surrounded by an aisle, to which access
is obtained through eight massive round arches,
resting on cylindrical piers. These support a
clerestory, forming a low round tower, to which
an upper storey was added in the fifteenth century
to be used as a belfry. The weight of this addi-
tion nearly ruined the older work beneath it,
which was further damaged and disfigured by the
introduction of a gallery, and the liberal use of
whitewash, while the floor beneath was obstructed
by numerous pews of various shapes and sizes.
The original round-headed windows had, with one
exception, been replaced by Perpendicular inser-
tions, and the picturesque porch was concealed
beneath a tasteless penthouse of wood. These
inappropriate additions were removed in the
course of the restoration, the ancient walls were
strengthened by a bed of concrete inserted beneath
them, and the tower secured by iron bands. The
round-headed windows were restored after the
pattern of the one remaining, and the tower sur-
mounted by an appropriate .conical cap covered
with grey Northamptonshire slates. The interior
was cleared of the vulgar and unsuitable fittings,
and properly repaired. It remains as a vestibule
to the modern chancel, being from its shape un-
suitable for the reception of seats.

In our imaginary survey of Cambridge, another

■s,|

M
^1

Church of St. Benedict. 31

ancient building, probably the oldest in the town,
has been omitted, the Church of St. Benedict. It
stood a little to the west of the House of the
Augustinian Friars ; and the archaic style of its
architecture suggests that it was once the church
of an independent village, which was standing
on the low ground before the erection of the
Norman stronghold on the hill beyond the river.
Modern restoration has left hardly a fragment of
this early church except the square west tower, of
which the upper stage is shown in our woodcut.
This remarkable monument has been described
with much minuteness by the Rev. D. J. Stewart,
from whom the following passage is borrowed :

" The walls are about three feet thick, constructed
throughout of rough stone-work, and strengthened at the
quoins externally by thin blocks of hewn stone laid flat
and set up on their ends in regular alternate courses — an
arrangement to which the name of * long-and-short work *
has been given. It consists of three stories, the lowest
of which takes up about one half of the whole building,
and is finished by a plain projecting string-course. The
second storey is somewhat smaller than the lower one
on which it stands, and is separated from the third by
another rude string-course. This latter storey has not been
much meddled with. In the middle of each of the four
sides there is a window, divided by a central baluster
ornamented with a band of rudely carved rings, standing
in the middle of the thickness of the wall, and supporting
a large stone, or flat abacus^ which extends completely
through the wall, and from which spring two semi-circular

3 2 Cambridge.

window-heads cut out of a single stone. On each side of
this central window there is a small one of the plainest
kind, with a semi-circular head, wrought out of a single
stone. These small windows do not range with the middle
one ; their sills do not come down to the string-course ;
their heads are higher, and above each, with a single
exception, there is a small block of stone, whose length
is about twice its width, pierced through with a round
hole."

The tower is connected with the body of the
church by a round-headed arch, plain and massive,
with capitals adorned with rudely-carved repre-
sentations of animals, characteristic of early work.
Of the church that once existed coeval with the
tower only a few fragments remain, built here and
there into more modern walls. The present nave
is of the thirteenth century, and the chancel, of
which the east end is shown in our etching, was
built in 1872. The building, of nearly equal
height, abutting against the south side of the
chancel, contained originally an upper and lower
chapel, for the use of the students of Corpus
Christi College. The former was used as a
lecture-room as well as a chapel, a custom
almost universal in colleges until the end of the
seventeenth century. In the north wall there
was a window looking into the parish chancel.
This building is connected with the college by
a picturesque gallery, beneath which is a four-

Church of St. Benedict. 33

centered archway. This was the original church-
way for the parishioners, who entered the nave
of their church through a porch, now destroyed,
at the west end of the south aisle. The chapel and
gallery were erected by Dr. Cosyn, Master of
Corpus Christi College, between 1487 and 1515.

i

II.

The Story of Peterhouse. The Market Hill.

A STRANGER who walks through the college
quadrangles is apt to think that the arrange-
ment of their buildings was adopted deliberately
upon a plan decided upon at the foundation.
This very natural opinion is not, however, the
true one. The college system started from small
and obscure beginnings. It was impossible to
foresee the extent to which it would be subse-
quently developed, and in consequence the first
buildings were extremely simple, and destitute of
some of those distinctive features (as the entrance
gate-way and the chapel) which are now the first
to command attention and admiration.

The earliest students who resorted to the
University lodged where they could in the houses
of the townspeople ; whence, as Dr. Caius tells
us, serious disagreement arose ; for the former
desired to hire lodgings at a fair price, the latter
to let them at an exorbitant one. To remedy

^he Story of Peter house. 35

this, hostels were established, managed by a
Principal appointed by the University, where
food and lodging were provided at an equitable
rate. Caius, writing in 1573, records the names
of some twenty of these, which had been in
existence within his own recollection (and he was
then, he says, sixty-three years old), but at that
date they had all come to an end After the
college system had been accepted they became
unnecessary. Some few survived for a while,
attached to special colleges as a source of revenue,
as St. Austin's to King's, and St. Bernard's to
Corpus Christi. Gradually, however, the ground
they occupied was required for collegiate exten-
sion, and the hostel was either pulled down or
converted into chambers.

The principal distinction between these tem-
porary residences and the colleges that succeeded
them is, that the latter were in all cases governed
by a body of statutes imposed by the founder,
who further offered inducements to students to
resort to his college by holding out the pros-
pect of Scholarships and Fellowships ; in other
words, of being educated free of cost while
an undergraduate, and of obtaining afterwards
a provision for a life of study. Besides these,
there were the poor scholars (pauperes scolares)^
now called "sizars," who were lodged as well

j6 • Cambridge.

as educated free of charge, and further allowed
to make money by doing menial work. For
instance, when building operations are going on,
we constantly find reference to their employment
at daily wages. This system (which has been
beneficial in its effect down to our own time,
for many of our most distinguished scholars
entered the University as sizars) was part of the
deliberate purpose that animated the design of
Walter de Merton, who may be called the founder
of the whole collegiate system. He sought to
attract the most capable men of all classes, and
so to raise up secular schools which should check
the influence of the monasteries, and through
them of the Pope. Merton's code, which was
followed at Peterhouse and elsewhere, and that
subsequently drawn up by William of Wykeham
for New College at Oxford in 1400, well repay
attentive study. In a series of pictures of Cam-
bridge, however, we purpose to select those points
of collegiate history that illustrate the buildings
and the social life, rather than the education,
which has of late been exhaustively treated of
by others. Let us, therefore, return to the
establishment of Peterhouse. Our illustration
shows the south side next the Fellows' garden,
with the Hall, and the turret-staircase that
originally led to the Master's chamber. The

'i. i

^ *

f

1

. •

The Story of Peterhouse. 39

story of the rise and progress of the buildings
of this college, which we select as a type of
collegiate develofOTient, affords an instructive
picture of the trials and difficulties that had
to be surmounted before the colleges reached
thdr present completeness ; a development which
no founder, no matter how wise and far-seeing,
could ever have foreseen :

" And yet he dreamed not : we, who every hour
Build grain by grain the mass of human power,
Must bow before our Master, who but stood
And nursed the juices working in the bud.
And might not tend the flowering ; who but fed
The stream of science at the fountain-head.
Now spreads the flower, now roars the stream, and we
See but his hope become reality/'

When Bishop Hugh de Balsham established his
scholars in 1284, he obtained leave for them to
use the neighbouring parish church of St. Peter
for their devotions. This was a usual arrange-
ment with the first colleges. Thus, Michael
House, the second in order of foundation, used St.
Michael's Church ; Clare Hall and Trinity Hall,
St. John Baptist's ; Gonville Hall (in its original
position), St. Botolph's ; King's Hall, Great St.
Mary's, or, as it was then called, St. Mary's-by-
the- Market. Pembroke Hall, founded in 1347,
is the first college that had a chapel of its own
within the precincts from the beginning.

40 Cambridge.

The Bishop died within two years after the
foundation of Peterhouse. On his death-bed he
bequeathed to his schplars 300 marks* With this
sum they acquired a considerable area to the west
and south of the original hostels, and built a
handsome hall {aulam perpukram)^ which is, sub-
stantially, the building still in use. The erection
of this edifice exhausted their funds, and for more
than a century they were unable to extend their
buildings. Then they addressed themselves to
John de Fordham, Bishop of Ely, with a humble
petition, praying that the Rectory of Hinton, near
Cambridge, might be appropriated to them ;
** For," said they, " the revenue of our house Is so
small that it barely, sufficeth in these days for the
support of a Master and fourteen scholars, ac-
coi^ding to the ordinances of your predecessors ;
nor are our buildings finished, or properly furnished
with the necessary offices." The Bishop presently
put them in possession of the church* The result
of this increase of fortune soon became apparent.
In I424 we find extensive building-works in
progress, which may be referred to the range of
chambers forming the north side of the court ; and
in 1 43 1 a contract for a library is drawn up with
a mason named John Wassyngle of Hinton, The
extent of this room, which occupied nearly the*
whole western side of the court, can still be traced

The Story of Peter house. 41

beneath the Italian front imposed upon the ancient
walls in the last century ; and the spiral stone
staircase by which it was approached, to construct
which a workman named Reginald Ely was
specially engaged, still gives access to the rooms
into which it has since been divided. Having
provided for their books, the scholars turned
their attention to their own bodily wants, and in
14 50 constructed a new kitchen, which still exists,
in the south-west corner of the court, between the
hall and the library. Lastly, the Master's chamber
was built, between 1460 and 1466, with the room
usually called elsewhere " Combination Room *' or
'^ College Parlour," but here " the Stone Parlour/*
beneath it. This latter, which was once remarkable
for containing portraits of the principal benefactors,
painted on panel, with a commemorative distich
inscribed under each, remains to this day in its
ancient position, though considerably enlarged
and beautified.

This rapid survey will have shown us that one
hundred and eighty years had elapsed before the
familiar disposition of buildings round a quadrangle
had been achieved ; and even then the fourth side
was incomplete. Another century and more went
by before any other buildings were undertaken,
and then (in 1590) the present library — which
makes so picturesque an appearance towards the

1

4-Z Cambridge.

street, with its lofty gable and projecting bay-
window — or rather the western portion of it, was
begun in accordance with the Will of Dr. Andrew
Perne, Master from 1554 to 1580. During that
eventful period he had adroitly changed his
opinions several times ; and though on one memo-
rable occasion in Mary's reign, to be narrated
presently, he appeared to have compromised himself
in favour of the Church of Rome, he managed
soon after to discover new beauties in the reformed
religion, signed the Thirty-nine Articles, and
preached a sermon before Queen Elizabeth which
her Majesty was pleased warmly to approve. These
changes of opinion exposed him to no little
ridicule. The wits of the University added a new
verb to the Latin language, fernare^ *'to change
one's opinion." It became proverbial to say of a
cloak that had been turned, ** It has been Perned."
The letters A.P.A.P. on the weathercock of St.
Peter's Church were explained to mean '* Andrew
Perne a Papist," or " Andrew Perne a Protestant,"
according to the fancy of the reader, and the like.
To his college, however, he was uniformly stead-
fast in his allegiance ; bequeathing to it his books,
with minute directions for their chaining and safe
keeping, and money enough to build the new
library aforesaid. Nor did he forget the Uni-
versity, to whose Library he was a generous

The Story of Peterhouse. 43

contributor ; indeed, if his defence had to be
undertaken, it might be argued that his course on
public occasions was dictated by a wise prudence —
that changes of opinion were unavoidable in such
times as his, when the religion of the country
changed three or four times in ten years ; and that he
trimmed in matters of outward observance in order
to be at hand to help in those that were essential.
During all this while the college had been
content with the chancel of the parish church for
a chapel. It had been rebuilt since the foundation,
and joined to the college by a gallery, like that
which we have seen at Corpus. In 1625, however,
Dr. Matthew Wren, uncle of the celebrated
architect, became Master. He, in the words of his
biographer, " seeing the publick Offices of Religion
less decently performed, and the Service of God
depending on the Courtesy of others, for want of
a convenient Oratory within the Walls of the
College," set about the erection of a separate
chapel. It was consecrated March 17, 1632, but
the exterior decorations and the interior fittings
were not completed until some years afterwards, by
Bishop Cosin, who laid himself open to bitter
censure from the Puritans by the introduction of
a gorgeous ceremonial, incense, Latin service-books,
and the like. The cloisters, north and south of
the chapel, were erected at the same time. That

44 Cambridge.

to the south led to the Master's gallery, erected
for his use over Dr. Perne's library.

Lastly, just a century after the consecration of
the chapel, a grand design was prepared for putting
a front upon the college, in the most approved
Italian style then in fashion. This was the work
of Mr. Burrough of Caius College, afterwards
Master, who has the credit of having built the
Senate House. He proposed to pull down the
library, with the two cloisters, and to construct in
their room two piles of building of three floors
each, connected with the chapel by galleries of
equal height, supported on a cloister in the same
style. The northernmost building was first under-
taken, and is still standing. Happily that cause
which has averted so many architectural disasters,
want of funds, came to the rescue in this instance,
and the library and cloisters were saved from
destruction.

The picturesque turret, or tower-staircase, at
the junctiori of the Hall and Master's chambers,
is a characteristic feature of early collegiate foun-
dations. By means of it the Master could obtain
access to the Combination Room (in which meet-
ings for business were held), and to the Hall,
without crossing the court. In some colleges the
Master's chamber was so arranged that he could
reach all the buildings in the same way. For to

The Story of Peter house, 45

understand the collegiate system, the position of
the Master, as at first constituted, must be care-
fully borne in mind. The very names given to
him in the older statutes. Master (magister).
Keeper (custos)^ Head {caput) ^ not to mention the
language in which his duties are defined, and the
elaborate analogies in which he is compared to the
helmsman of a ship, and to the head, the eye, and
the heart of the human body, or even, as at Corpus
Christi College, Oxford, to the queen-bee in a
hive, all indicate that he was to be a sovereign
prince, rather than a constitutional king. The
care of the entire community devolved upon him,
and though the Deans would assist him in disci-
pline, and the Bursars in finance, it was his duty
to see that they performed theirs ; in fine, he was
" to give his most earnest attention to all matters,
spiritual or temporal, within or without, remotely
or nearly concerning the House and the inmates
thereof ; and manfully to defend the rights of the
House, that so the scholars might peacefiiUy and
diligently pursue their studies, without being
hindered by the aforesaid cares and vexations."
This is general language ; but in practice it
appears that the minutest matters of daily life
were referred to him ; and in one college, at least,
we find that at night the keys of the gates were
brought to him "upon a clogg." At the begin-

46 Cambridge.

ning of the sixteenth century, when a more pro-
fuse hospitality became the fashion, a gallery was
added to his chamber in most colleges. Here, as
we have seen, this addition was not made until
the middle of the seventeenth century. It must
have greatly added to his comfort, for it enabled
him to reach the Chapel directly from his rooms.
The habit of living in a separate house was a
necessary consequence of the permission to marry
conceded at the Reformation.

A stream of clear water runs down each side of
Trumpington Street as far as Pembroke College,
and was at one time much used for drinking
purposes. Those who benefit by it, or are at-
tracted by the unusual appearance of running
water in a town, do not know that they have to
thank for it that same Dr. Perne whom we just
mentioned, though he is not responsible for the
double channel. Before his time, though there
was a public fountain in the market-place, water
for domestic use could only be obtained from
private wells, or directly from the river. Dr.
Perne has the merit of having been the first to
suggest that a supply of wholesome water might
be obtained from the Nine Wells, a group of
springs rising out of the chalk near Great Shelford,
a village some three miles to the south. The
scheme was carried out in 16 10 by the joint con-

The Old Conduit.
n drawing by A. Bmntl Dibain,

The Market Hill. 49

tributions of the University, the Colleges, and the
Town,

"as well for the Cleansing, Easement, Benefit, and Com-
modity of divers and sundry Drains and Water-Courses,
belonging to divers and sundry Colleges, Halls, and Houses
of Students within the University of Cambridge, as also for
the cleansing and keeping sweet one common Drain or
Ditch, commonly called King's Ditch, and for the avoiding
of the Annoyance, Infection, and Contagion ordinarily
arising thro' the Uncleanness and Annoyance thereof, to the
great endammaging of the Healths and Welfare of the
People of both the said Bodyes."

The plan was drawn by Edward Wright, M.A.,
of Gonville and Caius College, who was accounted
the best mathematician of his day ; he also gave
to Sir Hugh Middleton the plan of his New
River.

At this time the conduit, of which we give a
woodcut, was erected on the Market Hill. It is
popularly called Hobson's Conduit, from a mis-
taken notion that that celebrated carrier built it,
or contributed largely to it. This, however, was
not the case. His benefactions to the water-
supply of the town were conferred by his will in
1 630. This conduit is no longer in its original
position. In 1849 ^^ accidental fire, which could
not have been more beneficial had it been the
result of deliberate design, destroyed a block of
houses between the chancel of St. Mary's and the

5

50 Cambridge,

Market Hill. The ground on which they had
stood was acquired by the Corporation, and the
present spacious Market Place laid out. The old
conduit then appeared to civic eyes too poor a
structure for so large a space, and it was removed
to the end of Trumpington Street, where the
stream from the Nine Wells enters Cambridge.
The present Gothic structure was set up on the
centre of the enlarged Market Hill in 1855.

This improvement has deprived the Market
Place of the air of antiquity that it once possessed,
and other changes have done away with many
interesting associations. The Cross, which stood
at the south-western corner, disappeared about
1786, and the Tolbooth in 1790. The street on
the north side, called Rose Crescent, marks the site
of the Rose Tavern, which enjoyed a considerable
reputation in the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries. In Pepys' time it appears to have been
noted for good wine, to judge from the quantity
that he and his friends consumed at it, and the
frequent allusions to it in his diaries. In 1768,
when the King of Denmark, husband of George
the Third's sister, the unfortunate Caroline Ma-
tilda, visited the University, attended among other
persons by his physician. Dr. Struensee, who was
destined shortly after to achieve so tragic a
notoriety, he stayed at the Rose, and from

1|MV

j

if

II

Is

The Market Hill. .53

a window that looked on the Market Place saw
the fireworks and illuminations given in his honour
by the town. Professor Pryme records in his
''Autobiographical Recollections" that in his
undergraduate days (about 1799) there was a room
set apart in the Rose Inn as a Coffee-house, to which
men resorted to take tea or coffee on summer
evenings when there was no fire in their rooms.
On the west side the principal object is Great St.
Mary's Church, which with the Senate House and
Schools, separated from it only by a street, is the
centre of University Life, as the Town Hall is of
Civic Life. Is it too wild a stretch of fancy to
imagine that the changes which removed the
material obstacles that separated these two great
groups of buildings may foreshadow the speedy
removal of the differences that have so long
severed the two bodies to whom they belong ^

Inconvenient as the old Market Place was, it
had witnessed several curious scenes. In 1382,
just a hundred years after the foundation of Peter-
house, the first great explosion of feeling against
College encroachments culminated in a serious
riot. The ringleader, one James de Grantchester,
with the connivance, it is said, of the Mayor, who
ought to have known better, got together an
armed mob. They first sacked and burnt the
houses of the University officials ; then they burst

54 Cambridge,

open the gates of Corpus Christi College, which
they pillaged ; and lastly, proceeding to St. Mary's
Church, they possessed themselves of the common
chest of the University. From this repository
they extracted the charter, bulls, and other muni-
ments, which they carried off in triumph into the
Market Place. There they broke the seals of the
charters with clubs ; after which they piled up a
huge bonfire, and burnt them all, amid the rejoic-
ings of the populace. An old woman, named
Margaret Sterr, gathering up the ashes, scattered
them to the winds, exclaiming, " Away with the
learning of the clerks ! away with it ! '* It was
at the old Cross in the Market that the Duke
of Northumberland's attempt to make poor Lady
Jane Grey queen came to a conclusion in which
the ludicrous was strangely blended with the
tragic. He left London on the July 14, 1553,
by order of the Council, with 8000 Foot and 2000
Horse, intending to intercept, and if possible to
capture, the Lady Mary, who was known to be on
her way to London. He reached Cambridge on
the following evening, and sending for some Heads
of Colleges, and Dr. Sandys, Master of' St.
Catharine's and Vice Chancellor, bade them sup
with him. After supper he desired Sandys to
preach before him in the University Church on
the next day, which was Sunday. The Doctor,

The Market HilL 55

not daring to refuse, went home sorely perplexed
what to say. He rose at three o'clock in the
morning, took up a Bible, and holding it before
him, earnestly prayed to God that it might
fall open at a suitable text. The book open-
ing at the first chapter of Joshua, he caught
sight of the words, ** And they answered Joshua,
saying. All that thou commandest us we will
do, and whithersoever thou sendest us we will
go. According as we hearkened unto Moses
in all things, so will we hearken unto thee;
only the Lord thy God be with thee, as He
was with Moses." These words he "handled
so wisely, and so warily, that his enemies got
not so full advantage against him as they
expected," says Fuller. On the Monday morn-
ing the Duke went to Bury, having learnt
that Mary had retired to Framlingham, in
Suffolk. The reinforcements that ought to
have met him at Newmarket did not come;
his men began to desert; and he received
from the Council " letters of discomfort."
Thereupon he returned to Cambridge, where
presently he learnt that the Council had pro-
claimed Mary queen. The shadow of his com-
ing doom must have fallen upon him when
he heard the news ; but he seems to have
imagined that by prompt acceptance of the

56 Cambridge.

situation he might save his life. Once more he
sent for Dr. Sandys, perhaps out of a chivalrous
wish to do what he could to save one whom
he had so deeply compromised, and telling
him that Queen Mary was a merciful woman,
and that he looked for a general pardon, bade
him go with him and proclaim her. The other
gave him scant comfort : '^ My life," he answered,
*'is not dear to me, neither have I said or
done anything that urgeth my conscience. But
be you assured that you shall never escape
death, for if she would save you, those that
now rule will kill you." Nevertheless, at
about five o'clock, the Duke repaired to the
Market Cross with such nobles as were with
him, and calling for a herald, proclaimed
Mary queen, throwing up his cap with the
rest. A few hours afterwards, he was arrested
in King's College, where he was staying, by
Roger Slegge, Serjeant-at-Arms, and on the
following day conveyed a prisoner to London,
where he was soon after executed.

Four years later another event befell in the
same place, which showed what clemency even
the dead had to expect fi-om the advisers of
Mary Tudor. In 1549 two eminent German
divines, Martin Bucer and Paul Fagius, had
been sent to Cambridge by Edward the Sixth

The Market Hill. si

to lecture in Divinity and Hebrew. Both died
shortly after, and were buried in Cambridge;
Fagius in St. Michael's, and Bucer in St.
Mary's. Three thousand persons attended
Bucer's funeral. Dr. Matthew Parker, after-
wards Archbishop of Canterbury, preached the
sermon ; and the learned of the University laid
epitaphs on the grave. The doctrines taught
by these divines in their lectures were no doubt
heretical in the eyes of Roman Catholics ; and
consequently, when Queen Mary sent Com-
missioners to visit the University in January,
1557, the very first decision arrived at by the
Vice Chancellor (Dr. Andrew Perne) and the
Heads, who were probably anxious to gain the
goodwill of the Visitors, was, that suit should
be made with them '' by the University, that
Bucer might be taken upp and ordered accord-
ing to the law, and likewise P. Fagius." The
Visitors, nothing loth, proceeded to the tedious
formalities of the citation and condemnation of
these obstinate heretics. At the third citation
Dr. Perne preached before them in St. Mary's.
Many sermons remarkable for bad taste have
been delivered in that building, and much strange
doctrine. Even in our own time a Bedell of
the University has been heard to say that he
had attended the sermons twice on every Sunday

5 8 Cambridge.

for forty years, and was thankful that he was
still a Christian. On no other day, however,
let us hope, have sacred words been so mis-
applied as they were, on that when Dr. Perne
selected, of all texts in the Bible, a verse from
the Psalms, ''Behold how good and pleasant a
thing it is, brethren, to dwell together in
unity ! '* By the 6 th of February all legal
forms had been satisfied, the bodies had been
exhumed, and were guarded by the Mayor and
Corporation armed. Early in the morning the
Visitors, attended by the University and the
town, paraded the principal streets in procession.
The Bishop of Chester, gorgeously vested, bore
the Host aloft under a canopy supported by
four doctors. The Heads of colleges, the
Mayor, and the Aldermen, carried lighted
torches. As they went they chanted the hymn,
" Salve f est a dies!' One untoward incident marred
the success of the display. As they came
opposite to the Falcon Inn in Petty Cury, the
canopy caught fire, combustibles having been
thrown upon it, as was thought, from a window.
When they reached the Market Place all was
ready. A great post had been set up in the
centre of it, and a heap of wood laid ready.
On their arrival the chests containing the
bodies were set up on end and bound to

The Market Hill. 59

the post with iron chains, as if the heretics had
been alive. The fuel was set on fire, and as
it flared up a number of books that had been
condemned were cast into it, a great crowd
looking on, for it happened to be market-day,
and the town was thronged with country folk.
The fire was scarcely out when the Bishop of
Lincoln, one of the Visitors, repaired to St.
Mary's, and there preached for full three hours,
setting forth Bucer's '^wyckedness and hereticall
doctryn." Verily, if martyrs have not been
burnt in Cambridge as they were in Oxford,
the occasion, and not the will, was wanting.

In times more modern than those we have
been recording, the Market Place has witnessed
many another bonfire, many a hard-fought
contest, and much effusion of blood. Happily
the blood has flowed from no part more vital
than the nose ; the bonfires have commemorated
only royal anniversaries, or pacific triumphs
such as the victory of Smith over Jones for
the distinguished honour of representing a ward
on the Town Council ; and the battles have
been exercises in the *' noble art of self-defence "
between townspeople and undergraduates —
" Town " and " Gown," as they are usually
denominated in Cambridge. Most of these
Homeric encounters have been consigned to

6o Cambridge.

oblivion, like the kings who lived before
Agamemnon, for lack of a bard who should
hymn the deeds of daring- done on either side.
One, however, has been snatched out of the
darkness in which the rest lie buried and for-
gotten, for it found a Homer in the late Mr.
Tom Taylor. Macaulay himself could hardly
have been angry at the use made of his metre
and his manner in these amusing verses, which
we proceed to quote. Their fun and good-
humour will form an agreeable contrast to
the sadness of the last story which we have
told. We shall premise that the events com-
memorated befell on this wise. In March,
1846, an American dwarf called General Tom
Thumb was exhibited in Cambridge. He was
shown in the morning for half-a-crown, and
in the evening for one shilling, the latter ex-
hibition being intended for the townspeople,
the former for members of the University, who
are popularly believed in Cambridge to be the
possessors of boundless wealth. But even as
that ingenious contriver of a hen-house, who
made a large door for the hens and a small
door for the chickens, found that all the birds
preferred to use the larger one, so did the
promoter of this exhibition behold his room
empty in the morning, and crowded in the

The Market Hill. 6i

evening, not with shopkeepers, but with under-
graduates. What great events from little causes
spring! The burghers, indignant at what they
regarded as an invasion of their rights, hustled
the undergraduates, the undergraduates hustled
the burghers; the fight, from a skirmish on
the first night, became a battle on the second,
and on the third a deliberately organised trial
of strength between the opposing forces. It
ended in a complete defeat of the under-
graduates ; indeed, we have heard that they
turned tail and ran away, but this we regard
as a base calumny. The weight of the other
side, aided by the truncheons of the police,
probably decided the fortunes of the day ;
anyhow, the gownsmen fled through Rose Cres-
cent into Trinity Street, hotly pursued. When
they reached Trinity College, the great gate
was opened to admit them, — by that time a
disordered and grievously wounded mass of
men belonging to various colleges — and there
they passed the night, uncomfortable, but safe.
Not long afterwards, the following ballad
appeared. The names are of course fictitious,
but at the time it was easy to recognise the
originals, and the incidents alluded to.

\

6 2 Cambridge.

THE FIGHT OF THE CRESCENT :

A LAY OF MODERN CAMBRIDGE.

((

C(

The sturdy undergraduates

Are pouring in amain,
Up through the fair»Rose Crescent,

The Market Place to gain ;
From many a wild wine-party,

From many a sober tea.
From the distant halls of Downing,

And the courts of Trinity.

From lowly Queens' quadrangle

Where muffins are the go :
From Magd'lene famed for fast men,

From Catherine famed for slow :
From Caius, where anxious proctors

To keep the gates shut try ;
From Clare, where dons chivalrous

Unlock them on the sly.

" There be twenty chosen gownsmen.

The foremost of the band.
Pupils of Sambo Sutton,

To keep the Crescent stand :
They can't run if they wished it.

Perforce they bear the brunt.
For the gownsmen in the rear rank

Push the gownsmen in the front.

" And all within the Market Place,
And Market Hill along.
The townsmen, far as words can go.
Come it uncommon strong.

The Market Hill. 63

But as yet no nose is bleeding,

As yet no man is down ;
For the gownsmen funk the townsmen,

And the townsmen funk the gown.

" When lo ! a cad comes, brimful

Of bravery and beer ;
" To arms ! to arms ! the borough

Police will soon be here ! "
Through Market Street to eastward

Each townsman turned his eye.
And saw the hats and truncheons

Rise fast along the sky.

" And plainly and more plainly.

Now may each gownsman know.
By form and face, by port and pace.

Each big blue-coated foe.
There in the front, fierce Freestone,

Be-whiskered, may be seen ;
And stalwart Serjeant Seabrook,

With buttons bright and clean ;
And Buggins of the mutton fist.
And Muggins with the fearful twist.
And Hobbs, famed for his waving curls.
And Dobbs, adored by servant girls,

And gruff Inspector Greene.

((

Then out spake a Fellow-commoner,

In voice both sad and slow,
And darkly looked he on his friends.

And darkly on the foe :
' They'll be too many for us.

Ten to one against the Gown ;
Unless we get to Trinity

We'll be wollopped by the Town.'

64 Cambridge.

" Then out spake brave Fitz-WigginSj

Though a small-college man :
' To keep the Crescent *gainst the cads

ni do the best I can ;
And if none will stand beside me,

Alone ril face the snobs,
Despite fierce Freestone's truncheon.

And the staves of Hobbs and Dobbs !

*'Then out spake Sir Tom Noddy,

A son of Trinity :
' Lo ! I will stand at thy right hand.

And the Crescent keep with thee/
And out spake Merrypebbles,

A Johnian was he :
'I will abide at thy left side.

And the Crescent keep with thee.'

" Fitz- Wiggins floored fierce Freestone,

Tom Noddy levelled Hobbs,
And cheerful Merrypebbles -

Blacked both the eyes of Dobbs ;
And the aggravated townsmen

Stand all aghast to see
On the flags the unconscious Peelers,

In the Pass the dauntless Three.
And on the leaguered Crescent,

Was none would brave attack ;
But those behind cried ' Forward ! *

And those in front cried * Back ! '

u

Meanwhile their legs the gownsmen
Right manfully have plied ;

And now they've got to Trinity,
And the gates are opened wide.

The Market Hill. 65

*.Come back, come back, Fitz- Wiggins/

Loud cried they from the gate ;
' Pack, Noddy ! Merrypebbles,

Back, or you'll be too late ! '

"But the police are on them.

And their truncheons thick they ply ;
Now the Fates save brave Fitz-Wiggins,

What a terrible black eye !
Though Merrypebbles' head be

The thickest in the ring.
It scarce can *scape unbroken.

Such staves must make it ring.

" Alone stood Sir Tom Noddy,

But constant still in mind ;
Policemen pitching in before.

And Trinity behind.
' Down with him ! ' cried false Seabrook,

As he mopped his bloody face ;
' Now yield thee,' cried the Inspector,

' Now yield thee to our grace ! '

" But brave Tom Noddy never deigned

An answer, no, not he ;
But he floored the Inspector neatly

As a man might wish to see.
And through the storming townsmen

And the irate police.
He fights his passage manfully.

And he wins the gate in peace.

" And now, his gown in ribbons.
In the crowded court he stands.
And ' to call upon him the next day '
Receives the Dean's commands.

6

]

66 Cambridge.

And then with shouts and clappings,
And hip, hip, hurrah, loud.

He passes on unto his rooms.
Borne by the admiring crowd,

" But he was rusticated

By the Dons, that very night ;
I And when he showed them his black eye.

They said it served him right*
But long at our wine parties

We'll remember how, like bricks,
I Stout Noddy kept the Crescent

In eighteen forty-six,"

r.

III.

Great Saint Marfs Church, Clare Hall,

Pembroke College.

THE Church of St. Mary the Great, of which
the chancel and tower were shown in our
last illustration, demands a more detailed con-
sideration that we were enabled to give to it when
describing the Market Place. It is not only the
largest, but on many grounds the most interesting,
church in Cambridge. Though completed at a
time when medieval architecture was declining,
and though we see it now in a somewhat mutilated
condition — ^without the vestry that once stood on
the south side of the chancel, and without the
tracery that once filled the windows of the aisles,
it is still a dignified building. To members of
the University it is hallowed by associations that
go far to efface any architectural shortcomings ;
but the most indifferent observer could hardly fail
to admire the lofty nave, admirably lighted by
the twenty windows of the clerestory, and still

6 8 Cambridge,

preserving its ancient roof of carved oak ; or to
acknowledge that the tower, though inferior in
beauty to that of the sister church at Oxford, is
yet massive and well-proportioned.

The first connection of the . church with the
University is lost in that obscurity which
necessarily hangs over events separated fi-om our

own times by five or six centuries. In all proba-

..... • • ..

bility It was an arrangement dictated, in the first
instance, by convenience, and subsequently main-
tained by respect for ancient usage. And, when
we find, secular ceremonies habitually held in St.
Mary's, we must remember that the peculiar
respect with which churches are now regarded is
a sentiment wholly of modern growth. Through-
out the Middle Ages cathedrals and churches,
being the largest buildings in the towns, were
used for all purposes for which a large covered
space was required. The altar alone was regarded
as a sacred spot which might not be profaned by
unconsecrated hands, and the neighbourhood of
which was ^n inviolable sanctuary. In many
ca^es the formal ceremony of consecration did not
extend beyond the slab on which Mass was cele-
brated ; and this, made of some material more
precious than the table of which it formed a part,
was often consecrated by the Pope or by a Bishop
at a distance. Gradually the sacred character of

Great Saint Marfs Church. 69

the altar extended to the part of the 'church in
which it stood, and the chancel was fenced off By
a screen or railing, as a place more holy than the
rest of the church ; but the naves were still used
for secular purposes until the Reformation, and in
many cases down to the days of Archbishop Laud.
This medieval sentiment lasted in Cambridge
longer than elsewhere. College chapels were used
for meetings, acts, disputations, lectures, and even
for dramatic performances, quite to the end of the
seventeenth century. A survival of this custom
subsists to the present day in certain * colleges,
where declamations, no matter on what subject,
are delivered in the chapel. The most remark-
able instance of what now-a-days would be re-
garded as frightful profanity, but which evidently
conveyed no such idea to our forefathers, occurred
at the reception of Queen Elizabeth at King's
College, where the Society had no large apart-
ment at their disposal except the chapel. They
therefore turned the nave, or ante-chapel, into a
hall of audience ; and there, on the evening of
Sunday, August 6, 1564, after service, performed
before Her Majesty a play by Pkutus in the
original Latin. An additional justification of
this treatment of college chapels is to be found in
the fact, that ih the case of many of thenl there is
no evidence that they were ever consecrated, even'

yo Cambridge.

so far as the altar was concerned. A license,
permitting the more solemn offices of religion to
be performed within their walls, was obtained from
the bishop of the diocese, and sometimes even
from the Pope; but this was not considered to
preclude the use of them for secular purposes. The
introduction of the contrary sentiment is seen in
the language of the formal Act of Consecration
of those erected in later times, in which it is usu^l
to specify the intention of the college to *^ separate
the building for ever from all common and pro-
fane uses."

There is evidence that St. Mary's was in exist-
ence so early as 1 204, when King John granted it
to Thomas de Chimeleye ; and in the last quarter
of that century we find it already used by the
University as their ordinary place of assemblage,
and its bells rung to call the members together,
for which purpose those of St. Benedict's were
also employed on extraordinary occasions. In
1290 it was burnt, with several of the surrounding
houses, the catastrophe being ascribed, as usual at
that period, to the malice of the Jews. It did
not, however, take long to place it in such a state
of repair that it could again be used for service,
for in 1303 the first notice of regular University
sermons occurs. It was, however, either rebuilt or
extensively repaired soon afterwards, for " the

Great Saint Marys Church. 71

building of St. Mary's Church " was proceeding
in 13 1 5, and the altar was consecrated afresh in
135 1. In. 1 342 King Edward III. gave the
advowson to his foundation of King's Hall,
whence it passed to Trinity College, the present
patrons. Three different bodies are therefore in-
terested in the church : the Master and Fellows
of Trinity, the Parish, and the University ; a
divided, and sometimes conflicting, authority,
which has occasionally been productive of no
small account of discord. Towards the end of
the fifteenth century the old church was so
much decayed, and so incommodious, that the
University undertook to rebuild it, little thinking
of the length of time the work would take, the
sum it would cost, or the difficulty of obtaining
funds. " All Church work," says Fuller, " is
slow ; the mention of St. Mary's mindeth me of
Church work indeed, so long was it from the
founding to the finishing thereof."

Dr. Caius relates, in his '* History of the
University," that the first stone of the new
church was laid in 1478, and that it took forty-
one years to build, having been completed in 1519.
This statement probably applies to the present
nave, for we find from the " Proctors' Accounts "
that the University continued to use some part of
the church — probably the chancel — for service.

72 . Cambridge.

This must have been of considerable size, for John
Alcock, Bishop of Ely, preached before the .Uni-
versity there in 1488. It is recorded that, the
discourse was 'Vgood and persuasive" {bonum et
blandum sermcmem)^ and that it lasted from one
o'clock to half-past three, a precedent which has
happily, not been followed by the Bishop's suc^
cessors in that pulpit. Congregations and Com-
mencements were held during the rebuilding in
the churches of the Austin and Grey Friars. . The
first stone of the tower, was laid on Monday the
1 6th of May, 149 1, at a quarter to sevea o'clock
in the evening. "Would that some kind fi-iend
would finish it ! " is the aspiration of Dr. Caius,
in recording the tardy completion of the nave ;
but though the worthy doctor lived for fifty-four
years after that event, he left the tower still not
riiore than half built. The tale of its slow and
halting progress is curious and instructive. . In
1 5 1 5 it had not risen as high as the roof of the
nave, and was thatched with sedge. The bells,
however, were then hung up in it. The parish
books show that it advanced slowly after this
date; and in 1536 the great .west window, a
noble specimen of Perpendicular architecture, was
glazed. In 1 544 one V Father Rotheram *' was
paid fourpence " for viewing the steeple." He
was probably an arohittjct, and the result of his

Great Saipt Marys Church. 73

inspection was a fresh outburst of building activity
in the following year, with materials from the
dissolved monasteries, whose churches were
eagerly seized upon and used as quarries. We
meet with payments for ** stone at the Black
Friers," " 20 lodes of slate from the late Austen
Fryers," "two lodes of lyme from the late White
Fryers," and the like. In 1576 the west porch —
an elegant composition in the cinque-cento style,
which was unfortunately replaced in 1850 by the
present meaningless door from a design by Sir G.
G. Scott — was erected, chiefly through the munifi-
cence of Sir Walter Mildmay, founder of Emmanuel
College, who contributed to it twenty tons of
freestone, taken probably from some of the
Dominican buildings. At about this time it was
contemplated to complete the tower by a spire
eighty feet high, to be built out of the materials
of Thorney Abbey in Huntingdonshire, and stone
contributed by Sir Walter Mildmay from the
oolite quarries at King's GliflTe in Northampton-
shire. For some unknown, and much to be re-
gretted, cause, this design was abandoned. The.
work which had been so tediously prolonged was
now drawing to a close at last. In 1593 the parish
authorities, weary of the long delay, took the
matter into their own .hands, and agreed to finish
the building of the steeple. This they accom-

74 Cambridge^

plished in 1596, when the bells "were all runge
oute and never afore." Twelve years later, in
1608, the tower was finally completed by the
addition of the cresting, and of the stone balls
surmounting the towers, as shown in Loggan's
print. This was the work of Robert Grumbold,
master-mason of Clare Hall, to whose good taste
part, at least, of the design of that College is due.
The cresting has long since disappeared, but the
balls remained until 1842, when, by the ill-advised
zeal of some hot-headed members of the Camden
Society, they were thrown down. They were not
in themselves beautifiil, but they served to mark
the interesting historical fact that the tower, begun,
as we have seen, when Gothic architecture was a
living stylo, had not been completed until that now
called Jacobean was in fashion, and on that account
were well worthy of preservation.

During the building of the church, and during
the longer period of one hundred and seventeen
years that elapsed from the foundation to the
completion of the tower, the University had made
great exertions and sacrifices to obtain funds.
Dr. Caius records that ^795 2s. id. was raised by
subscription. Among the subscribers were the
Duke of Gloucester, afterwards King Richard the
Third ; King Henry the Seventh, and his mother,
the Lady Margaret, Countess of Richmond and

Great Saint Marys Church. 75

Derby ; Dr. Barrow, Chancellor of the Household
to King Richard the Third, who gave ^240 'for the
roof and windows ; John Alcock, Bishop of Ely ;
thirty priors and abbots of religious houses through-
out England ; and several bishops. The smaller
sums given vary from ten pounds to one shilling.
The University contributed, between 1478 and
1 5 1 9, the large sum of ^^5 55 2s. id., equal to at least
;^ 5^000 at the present day. In order to obtain
funds the University had been obliged to have
recourse to the extraordinary expedient of sending
the Proctors on a journey round the country to
collect money. They were absent for twenty days.
The letters that they carried were composed by
Roger Skelton, Poet Laureate, in terms, we may
suppose, of moving supplication. Unfortunately
none of these compositions have been preserved.
This was at the beginning of the work. Subse-
quently the usual means of obtaining money were
resorted to. The affluent were besieged with
begging-letters ; and collections were made at the
public Commencements, and in the different col-
leges. James Tabor, Registrar of the University
in 1600, records :

"The steeple was not finished when I came to Cambridge,
but was covered with Thacke, and then Mr. Pooley Apothe-
cary first, and after him John Warren, undertooke the worke,
and had collections in the several Colledges. I well remember

^S Cambridge.

in Bennett Coll. where I was first Pentioner, as Pentioners
we all gave at the first collection 2x a peece, Fellows loj a
peece, and Scholars of the house i8^ a peece, Fellow
Commoners 5/ a peece, or more as their Tutors thought
fitting. And so a second collection when that would not
serve ; and these two contributions, with money usually
gathered of strangers at Commencements, could not be lesse
than about ;^8oo or ;^iooo."

The completion of the Tower was, unfortu-
nately, signalised by the death of John Warren.
The occurrence is commemorated by the following
curious epitaph in the church :

A speaking stone
Reason may chaunce to blame ;

But did it knowe
Those ashes here do lie

Which brought the Stones
That hid the Steeple's shame,

It would affirm
There were no Reason why

Stones should not speake
Before theyr Builder die.

For here John Warren
Sleeps among the dead

Who with the Church
His own Life finished.

Anno Domini 1608. Dec, 17.

As our business is with the church as connected
with the University rather than as an ecclesiastical
structure, we will pass over the curious accounts
that have been preserved of the splendid rood-loft

Great Saint Marys Church, 77

completed in 1523, only to be destroyed by order
of Archbishop Parker in 1564; of the putting up
and pulling down of altars according as Mary or
Elizabeth occupied the throne ; of the " wiping "
of " y mages " out of the windows ; and of the
sums realised by the sale of vestments and furni-
ture.^ The first gallery for the accommodation of
the University authorities was set up in 16 10, for
the use of the Doctors. At that time the Bachelors
and Scholars all stood, under pain of paying a fine
of 3s. 4d. apiece if adult ; if not, of being " openly
corrected in the comon scholes with the rodde ; "
and it was the privilege of those who had taken
superior degrees to listen to the sermons with their
heads covered. To this day in St. Mary's it is
customary to listen to the " bidding prayer '*
standing, and not to kneel when the Lord's Prayer
is said after it, but only to cover the face with a
hat or cap. The following curious picture of the
condition of the church, and of the use to which
it was put by the University, is extracted from a
statement forwarded to Archbishop Laud in 1636 :

" St. Mary's Church at every great Commencement is
made a Theater, and the Prevaricatour's Stage, wherein he

' I must acknowledge my obligations to Messrs. Sanders
and Venables' " Historical and Architectural Notes on Great
St. Mary's Church, Cambridge." Cam. Antiq. Soc. Octavo
Publications, No. X.

78 Cambridge.

Acts and setts forth his prophane and scurrilous jests besides
diverse other abuses and disorders then suffered in that place.
All the year after a parte of it is made a Lumber House for
y® Materials of y® Scaffolds, for Bookbinders' dry Fats, for
aumerie Cupboards, and such like implements, which they
know not readily where else to put. The West windows
are half blinded up with a Cobler's and a Bookbinder's Shop.
At the East end are Incroachments made by diverse Houses,
and the Vestry is lately unleaded (they say) with purpose to
let it ruine or to pull it down. The Seats many of them
are lately cooped up high with wainscot.

" The Service Pulpit is sett up in the midst, a good dis-
tance below the Chauncell, and looks full to the Belfrie, so
that all Service, second Service and all, (if any be) is there
and performed that way.

" The Service there (which is done by Trin. Coll.) is
commonly posted over and cut short at y® pleasure of him
that is sent thither to read it.

" When the University comes in for the Sermon the
chancell (the higher part of it) is filled with boyes and
Townsmen, and otherwhiles (thereafter as the Preacher
is) with Towmwomen also, all in a rude heap betwixt y*
Doctors and ye Altar. In y® Bodie of the church Men,
Women, and Scholers thrust together promiscuously, but in
y® place onely before y® Pulpit, which they call ye Cock Pitt,
and which they leave somewhat free for masters to sitt in.
The rest of y® churche is taken up by the Townsmen of
y® Parrishe and their families, which is one reason among
others that many Scholers pretend for not coming to this
churche. Tradesmen and prentices will be covered when
the University is bare."

It had been customary, from the earliest times,
to fit up St. Mary's Church for the ceremonies
usual at degrees with temporary galleries and plat-

Great Saint Mary's Church. 79

forms, the extent and number of which depended
on the importance of the ceremony. At Queen
Elizabeth's visit the stage extended from the
tower-arch to the chancel. We shall not attempt,
on this occasion, to describe the curious system
by which every candidate for a degree was obliged
to keep one or more " acts " and " opponencies ; "
that is, to maintain a thesis of his own, and to con-
trovert one propounded by another. Besides these
" acts," the University at the great Commencement
deliberately appointed a person to the office of
Pr^evaricator^ or Varier. He was expected to
" vary " the questions proposed, to set them in a
ludicrous light, and in the course of his speech to
allude to topics of the day, and even to indulge
in personalities. He usually spoke in Latin, but
English verse might occasionally be introduced ;
and. when another form of buffiDonery, called a
" Musick Speech," was allowed, it was wholly in
English. Such a " chartered libertine " as this
might easily make himself intolerable. Even the
most famous of the '* Musick Speeches," that
spoken by Dr. Roger Long, afterwards Master
of Pembroke, in 17 14, is a strange composition
for a learned body to have listened to on a solemn
public occasion, and there are some lines in it too
gross for quotation. The Commencement on this
occasion was attended by Thoresby, the well-known

8o Cambridge.

antiquary. He records in his. diary that "the
Praevaricator's speech was smart and ingenious,
attended with volleys of hurras : the vocal music,
etc. was curious." The whole ceremony occupied
seven or eight hours. The following extract will
give an idea of Dr. Long's humour. At a previous
Commencenient the conduct of the ladies had been
thought indecorous, and in consequence they were
condemned to sit in the chancel as a punishment :

"The humble Petition of the Ladies, who are all ready to be

eaten up with the Spleen,
To think they are to be lock'd up in the Chancel, where

they can neither see nor be seen ;
But must, sit i' the Dumps by themselves all stew'd and

pent up,
And can only peep through the Lattice like so many

Chickens in a Coop ;
Whereas last Commencement the Ladies had a Gallery

provided near enough
To see the Heads sleep, and the Fellow-Commoners take

SnufF.
*Tis true for every Particular how 'twas order'd then we

can't so certainly know,
. Because none of us can remember so long as Sixteen Years

ago ;
Yet we believe they were more civil to the Ladies then,

and good Reason why.
For if we all stay'd at home your Commencement wou*dn*t

be worth a Fly :
For at Oxford last Year this is certainly Matter of Fact,
That the Sight of the Ladies and the Music made the best

Part of their Act.

Great Saint Marys Church. 8 1

Now you should consider some of us have been at a very

great Expence
To rig our selves out, in order to see the Doctors commence ;
WeVe been forc'd with our Manteau-makers to hold many

a Consultation,
To know whether Mourning or Colours wou'd be most like

to be in Fashion :
WeVe sent to Town to know what Kind of Heads and

Ruffles the Ladies wore,
And have raised the Price of Whalebone higher than 'twas

before ;
WeVe got Intelligence from Church, the Park, the Front-
box and the Ring,
And to grace St, Mary^s now wouldn't make our Cloaths up

in the Spring.
In Flounces and Furbelows many Experiments have been

try'd,
And many an old Gown and Petticoat new scour'd and

d/d.
Some of us for these three Months have scarce been able

to rest.
For studying what sort of Complexion wou'd become us

best;
And several of us have almost pinch*d our selves to Death

with going straight lac'd,
That we might look fuller in the Chest, and more slender

in the Waste.
And isn't it now intolerable after all this Pains and Cost
To be coop'd up out of Sight, and have all our Finery lost?*'

The convenience of these stages for the accom-
modation of a large assemblage probably led to the
erection of side-galleries in 1735, which were paid
for out of a legacy from the munificent Mr.

7

82 Cambridge.

William Worts. At the same time the University
rearranged the central space called in a former
extract ''the Cock-Pit," and down to a few
years ago " the Pit," where the Masters of Arts
sat on benches placed sideways. At the west
entrance of this enclosure, right in the centre of
the church, a gigantic pulpit was erected, with
reading-desk and clerk's desk to match— -a por-
tentous mass of woodwork, so lofty that the
preacher stood nearly on the same level as the
occupants of the galleries. It was octagonal in
form, like the lower stage of a pagoda ; and it was
ascended by an internal staircase, an arrangement
that produced a most ludicrous effect, for the
preacher, solemnly conducted by one of the
Esquire Bedells to the foot of the towering struc-
ture, disappeared for a few moments, and then was
seen slowly emerging at the top, head foremost.
At this time the chancel was separated from the
nave by what Cole calls " a beautiful and lofty
Screen, with a Canopy and Spire Work," which
had been set up in 1640. Within this the Heads,
Doctors, and other University dignitaries, were
seated on stalls, arranged in two rows along the
north and south walls, as at present. But, about
1757, these great persons had apparently become
discontented with what they regarded as an inferior
position, and, as Cole records :

Great Saint Mary's Church. 83

"By the advice and contrivance of my worthy friend
James Burrough, late one of y** Esquier Bedels, and now
Master of Gonville and Caius College, the Chancel is quite
altered, and y® Church appears to much less advantage than
it used to look ; for the Stalls and Fine Screen are taken down
in the Chancell, and a Gallery built with an arched top of
Wainscot, hi^ly ornamented indeed with Mosaic carving,
but very -absurd in the design : both as the Doctors who sit
there are generally old men, sometimes goutified, and not well
able to get upstairs, and also are made to turn, their backs on
the Altar, which is not so decent, especially in an Uni-
versity."

This wonderful gallery, officially termed " the
Throne " or the " Doctors' Gallery/* but by a
rather profane, and very silly, pun, always, spoken
of familiarly as " Golgotha^' was a large room-. It
occupied the whole width, and about half the
length, of the chancel, and was fitted with seats
rising in tiers one above the other. The back was
formed of large panels of oak. The Vice-Chan-
cellor sat in a capacious arm-chair in the centre of
the front row. It should be mentioned that the
tower-arch also was blocked by the organ, which
had a gallery in front of it. This latter affected
to be of stone and in the Gothic style, but was
really of plaster. When a popular preacher occu-
pied the pulpit, and the church was quite full, it
must be admitted that the effect was good, and
members of the University could see and hear
exceedingly well. But those who had planned the

84 Cambridge.

arrangement had forgotten, or did not care to
remember, that a church is built for other purposes
than to hear sermons in, and Archdeacon Hare did
not speak too strongly when he called St. Mary's
" an example of the world turned topsy-turvy."
However, when the late energetic Vicar, the Rev.
H. R. Luard, undertook to get " Golgotha " and
its accompaniments removed, he encountered much
vexatious opposition from all parties interested
in the church. The old difficulties in obtaining
funds were renewed. It took ten years to get
j^3j300 together ; and the present excellent and
decorous arrangements were not completed until
1864.

In speaking of the completion of the tower of
St. Mary's we mentioned Clare Hall. This beau-
tiful college, which more than any other in the
University, has the appearance of having been
built at one time, was really the work of more
than two centuries. The east side of the quad-
rangle was begun in 1638, after a furious con-
troversy with its powerful neighbour. King's
College, respecting its position, for it had pre-
viously stood close to the street, in a line with the
east end of the existing chapel. The Society of
Clare Hall, being anxious to set their college back
seventy feet from the street, asked King's College
to grant them part of their Butt Close, that they

Clare Hall. %s

might have ground for recreation on the left bank
of the Cam. In order to be sure of obtaining this,
they procured a royal mandate, directing King's
College to grant their request, without waiting for
the answer of that college. Indignant at this want
of confidence, King's College commenced an inter-
change of bitter invectives with Clare Hall, which
are not a little amusing. Here is a specimen. It
must be remembered that by King's College, the
Old Court, opposite to Clare as it was then placed,
is meant.

" The Answer of Clare -Hall to certaine Reasons of Kings College

touching Butt-close.

" I. To the first we answer : — 1°. That y* annoyance of
y® windes gathering betweene y*^ Chappell and our Colledge
is farre greater and more detriment to y* Chappell, then any
benefitt which they can imagine to receiue by y® shelter of
our Colledge from wind and Sunne.

" 2**. That y* Colledge of Clare-hall being sett so neare as
now it is, they will not only be sheltered from wind and
sunne, but much deprived both of ayre and light.

" 3*^. That y* removeall of Clare Hall 70 feet westward
will take away little or no considerable privacy from their
gardens and walkes : for y* one of their gardens is farre
remote, and y® nearer fenced with a very high wall, and a
vine spread upon a long frame, under which they doe and
may privately walke."

J Refl^ of Kin^s Colledge to f Answer of Clare -Hall,

" I. The wind so gathering breeds no detriment to our
Chappell, nor did ever putt us to any reparacions there. The

86 Cambridge.

upper battlements indeed at y® west end haue sometimes
sufFered from y® wind, but y® wind could not there be
straightned by Clare Hall, w*^^ scarce reacheth to y® fourth
part of y' height.

" 2°. No whit at all, for our lower Story hath few windowes
y' way : the other are so high y' Clare-Hall darkens them
not, and hath windowes so large y* both for light and ayre
no Chambers in any Coll. exceed them.

" 3°. The farther garden is not farre remote, being scarce
25 yards distant from their intended building ; y*^ nearer is
on one side fenced w*^ a high wall indeed, but y* wall is
fraudulently alleaged by them, and beside y*^ purpose; for
y' wall y* stands betweene their view and y® garden is not
much aboue 6 foot in height : and y* we haue any vine or
frame there to walke under is manifestly untrue."

At last a royal letter settled the controversy,
and Clare Hall obtained the ground they coveted.
The east and south sides were finished in 1642.
Soon afterwards the work was interrupted by the
Civil War, and when Evelyn visited Cambridge in
1654 he remarked of this college : "Clare-Hall
is of a new and noble designe, but not finished."
Work on the west side, begun in 1640, was not
resumed until 1662. It went on slowly, for by
the end of 1669 the southern half only, with the
gate leading towards the bridge, had been com-
pleted. The north side was built between 1683
and 1689 ; the north half of the west side
between 1705 and T715 ; and the chapel between
1763 and 1769. Our illustration shows the gate

Gate of Entrance, Clare College, as seen
the Interior of ike Court.

Frem a draaing h A . Brantl Diiainis.

Clare Hall. \ 89

of entrance in the east front, as seen from the
interior of the court. The style of the earlier
portions is transitional between the Elizabethan
and the Renaissance ; and in the buildings erected
subsequently, though the classical fashions of a
later time are apparent, the earlier style has been
so skilfully followed that the harmony of the
general effect is not disturbed,

Clare Hall was founded originally in 1326, and
refounded in 1338 by Elizabeth de Burgh, Lady
Clare. The first half of the same century
witnessed the foundation of two other colleges
— King's Hall, founded by Edward the Third in
1337 > and Pembroke Hall, founded by Marie de
St. Paul in 1347. She was daughter of Guy de
Chatillon, Comte de St. Paul in France ; and
married Aymer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke,
who is said to have been killed in a tournament
on his wedding day, though truth compels us to
state that he really died prosaically in his bed
three years afterwards. King's Hall was after-
wards developed into Trinity College by Henry the
Eighth. These noble and royal founders have
been happily commemorated by Gray in his In-
stallation Ode :

" Great Edward, with the lilies on his brow

From haughty Gallia torn,
And sad Chatillon, on her bridal morn

9© Cambridge.

That wept her bleeding Love, and princely Clare,
And Anjou*s heroine, and the paler rose,
The rival of her crown and of her woes,

And either Henry there.
The murder'd saint, and the majestic lord,

That broke the bonds of Rome."

It was in Pembroke that Gray himself resided
from 1756 till his death in 1771. He had
previously lived at Peterhouse, where he had been
made the victim of a practical joke. He was
very much afraid of fire, and had been careful
to provide himself with a rope-ladder of the
proper length to reach from his window to the
ground. Some young men who lived on the same
staircase raised an alarm of fire one night. Gray
hastily attached his ladder, and descended ; not,
however, on to the ground, but into a water-butt
that his mischievous young friends had placed to
receive him. This outrage on a distinguished
man of letters does not appear to have aroused
either sympathy or indignation in those rough
roystering days. Gray laid a formal complaint
before the authorities of Peterhouse ; and, soon
after, *' not thinking that his remonstrance was
sufficiently attended to/' as Mason puts it, sought
more congenial quarters on the opposite side of
the street. *' I left my lodgings/* he writes to
Wharton, '^ because the rooms were noisy, and the

Oriil Window of the Lodge, Pembroke College, ;
destroyed, from the Garden.

Pembroke College. 93

people of the house uncivil ; this is all I would

chuse to have said about it." At that time Dr.

Roger Long, with whom Gray had been intimate

for some years, was Master of Pembroke, and he

and the Fellows received the fugitive poet, with

as much deference, he says, as if he had been

Mary de Valence in person. The rooms he is

believed to have occupied are on the ground floor

at the west end of the " Hitcham Building,*'

which forms the south side of the second court.

Above them are those subsequently occupied by

William Pitt. With the exception of this court —

which the hand of the spoiler has spared — but

little remains of the college of his day ; the old

Master's lodge, the old hall, and the south side of

the principal quadrangle, have all been pulled

down within the last few years. We forbear to

express an opinion on a proceeding that has

already excited many recriminations, but confine

ourselves to perpetuating, as far as we can, the

beautiful oriel of the old lodge, with its quaint

garden. The chapel, on the left of the picture, \

was designed by Sir Christopher Wren, nephew of

Dr. Matthew Wren, Bishop of Ely, who built it

as a thank-oiFering to God for his deliverance

from the Tower in 1659, after an imprisonment of

eighteen years, and " in a grateful remembrance of

his first education which was in that Place received."

€i

IV.

The Early History of Trinity College,

TO the glory of God and advantage of the
realm, for the promotion of science, philo-
sophy, liberal arts, and theology," Henry VIII.
founded Trinity College. It has been the good
fortune of the House to have been represented
at nearly all periods of its existence by men who
have been impressed with the full significance of
these weighty words. In consequence, the history
of Trinity College has been, to a great extent, the
history of the University. Within its walls have
originated the majority of those schemes for the
promotion of a liberal education which have enabled
Cambridge to keep a foremost place in science and
literature ; while the College itself, by encouraging
among its members a variety of studies, and
thoroughness in each, has been saved from those
ignoble and harrowing controversies into which
less widely-cultured bodies are prone to fall, and
so to fritter away their lives and waste their

The Early History of Trinity College. 95

educational opportunities. Hence it is that the
College can rehearse so grand a roll of names,
names of men famous in theology, in science, in
literature, in public life, such as no other College
in either University can put forward; hence also
the reassuring fact that up to the present time
there has been no sign of degeneracy, no hint

" That greatness hath no charter as of yore,
And men revolt from claims of sovereign lore,
And the bold majesty of mental strife
Hath lost its force in our distracted life ;
And though the circles widen, fainter gleam
All new emotions on the mirror-stream."

The motives that animated Henry VIII. to
establish this splendid foundation have not been
recorded. There is a tradition that it was due to
the suggestion of Dr. John Redman, one of his
chaplains, who was the last Master of King's
Hall, and became the first Master of Trinity
College — an appointment which shows that the
King did not propose to destroy, but only to
extend, the foundation of his predecessors ; but
it seems more probable to account for it on the
supposition that Henry desired to mark the age
of that Reformation, to which he had himself so
largely contributed, by some signal effort in the
cause of education, on a grander scale and with
larger endowments than the world had yet

96 Cambridge.

witnessed, so as to leave no cause for regretting
the loss of the monasteries on the ground of the
diminution of facilities for learning, which it had
been part of their system to encourage. It is
likely, too, that he may have wished to leave
behind him in Cambridge a more enduring fame
than his predecessor, Henry VI., was likely to
acquire by King's College, or even than the Lady
Margaret by her flourishing College of St. John's.
That education in a far wider sense than was
usual at that time was intended by him is clear
from the full statement of his views in the
preamble to the charter. After referring to the
special reasons he had to be thankful to Almighty
God for peace at home, for successful wars abroad,
and, above all, for the introduction of the pure
truth of Christianity into his kingdom, and the
defence of it against the heresies and wicked abuses
of the Papacy on the one hand and unbelief on
the other, he sets forth his intention of founding
a college " to the glory and honour of Almighty
God, and of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, for
increase and strengthening of Christianity, extir-
pation of error, development and perpetuation of
religion, cultivation of wholesome study in all
departments of learning, knowledge of languages,
education of youth in piety, virtue, self-restraint,
and knowledge, charity towards the poor, and

The Early History of Trinity College. 97

relief of the afflicted and distressed." Could any
scheme for a liberal education have then been
devised upon a wider, or less sectarian base than
this, or one better able to maintain itself among
changes of opinion and altered modes of thought?
It is probable that the very general expressions of
this carefully-worded charter saved the College in
Queen Mary's reign ; for no personal feeling on
her part in favour of her father s schemes could
have protected an institution endowed mainly out
of the suppressed monasteries, had the objects of
its foundation been more narrow. As it was, so
far from suppressing it or despoiling it, she was
enabled to increase its revenues by further endow-
ments derived firom the same sources.

A description of the site on which the present
stately quadrangles stand, and of the small
collegiate institutions that occupied it — insti-
tutions so small that the microscope of archaeo-
logical research has to put on a very high power
indeed to discover the existence of some of them —
is flill of instruction. Like the faggot of sticks
in the old fable, when united and amalgamated,
their strength is unassailable ; but individually
they were powerless for any good result, and
would probably have fallen into irremediable
ruin had not a strong hand bound them together.
As a general rule, reform comes better from

8

\

9 8 Cambridge.

within ; but there are occasions when it can only
be effected by judicious interference from without.
It is easy to imagine the clamour that must
have been excited by Henry the Eighth's drastic
measures. Unless academic nature was very
different indeed in those days from what it is at
present, there must have been much talk of vested
rights and founders' wills ; but could those who
first established the hostels and colleges that he
absorbed now witness the result, it is difficult not
to believe that they would applaud the strong-
willed king whose sweeping policy abolished their
well-meant but feeble establishments.

When Henry VIII. founded Trinity College
the ground was occupied by two colleges — King's
Hall and Michael House — and several hostels.
The names of seven at least of these have been
preserved. They were not all in existence in
1548, having been in some instances absorbed
by their neighbours ; but their position has been
put beyond all doubt by recent researches.
They were Gregory's Hostel, Crouched Hostel,
Physwick Hostel, St. Margaret's Hostel,
Tyled Hostel,. Garret or St. Gerard's Hostel,
and Ovyng's Inn. The main course of the
River Cam was the same then as now, but a
branch of it ran from the end of Garret
Hostel Lane to a point near the north end of

«• "fc . I,

The Early History of Trinity College. «oi

the present Library, separating off an oval piece
of common ground, called Garret Hostel Waste.
Neither this waste, however, which is now the
green in front of the Library, nor any of the
ground occupied by the avenue and walks, was
at that time the property of the College. Of the
site on the right bank of the river, the northern
half — where the Great Gate, Chapel, Bowling
Green, and Master's Lodge now stand - — was
occupied by the buildings of King's Hall, and
by a wharf called " Dame Nichol's Hythe," or
" Cornhythe." A lane leading to this wharf
started from a point in High Street close to the
present Great Gate, thence crossed the Great
Court diagonally, and so reached the river close to
the junction of the above-mentioned stream with
it. This lane was called the "King's Childer
Lane," " King's Hall Lane," or simply " Road to
Dame Nichol's Hythe." It was frirther used for
the conduit- pipe which supplied the convent of
the Franciscans, on whose site Sidney College was
subsequently built, and which now supplies the
Fountain in the middle of the Great Court of
Trinity College, and the tap at the Great Gate,
still so largely used by the neighbours. This
latter supply is of great antiquity, for in the
fourteenth century we find the occupier of the
house close to it called William Atte-Conduit —

lo^ Cambridge.

a • combination with which we are more .familiar
in. the names of Atwood and Atwater. The
soiathern half of the site was subdivided into two
nearly, equal parts by a lane. which ran from north
;to south. It started from the point in the present
Trinity Lane where the " Queens' Gate " now
stands, and ran northwards until it met the
previously mentioned lane. According to Dr.
Caius, it was called " le foule lane." At the time
of the foundation of King's Hall it provided a
more direct communication between Milne Street
and Bridge Street than exists at present through
Trinity Lane ; but when Dr. Caius wrote, the
eastern half of King's Hall Lane had been
absorbed by that college, and " le foule lane " was
the only means of access to Dame Nichol's Hythe.
The traffic through it was probably considerable ;
whence. the unsavoury designation by which it has
become known to posterity. Lastly, the piece of
ground between the south-western portion of the
site and Garret Hostel Lane was occupied by the
two hostels of Ovyng and Garret.

Of the nine institutions above mentioned the
oldest was Michael House, founded in 1324 by
Harvey de Stanton, Chancellor of the Exchequer
to Edward IL As was the case with most early
colleges, the founder established his scholars, who
were only seven in number at the beginning, in an

The Great Gate of Trinity College.

The Early History of Trinity College. 105

ordinary dwelling-house, which he had bought for
a hundred marks from Roger de Buttetourte.
Subsequently, as benefactions accrued to them, a
hall, a kitchen, and ranges of chambers were con-
structed, with a conspicuous gate of entrance from
the highway, now called Trinity Lane, directly
opposite to the end of Milne Street. The court
could not have measured more than one hundred
feet from east to west, by fifty feet from north to
south ; yet room was found for a Master, eight
Fellows, three Chaplains, and four Bible Clerks,
besides undergraduates and servants. The hall
was on the west side, and there is reason to believe
that It was preserved until near the end of the
eighteenth century, and that it is the building with
a high roof, buttresses, and an oriel window, shown
by Lqggan in his view of Trinity College, at the
south-west corner of the Great Court. The com-
munity had no chapel of their own, but, down to
the time of their absorption in Trinity College,
continued to use the church of St. Michael for
their devotions. Besides the dedication to St.
Michael, the house was established in honour of
the Holy and Undivided Trinity, St. Mary, and
All Saints. It is therefore from this small estab-
lishment that the name of Trinity College was in
all probability derived.

Physwick Hostel occupied the ground at the

io6 Cambridge.

corner of Foul Lane and Trinity Lane, opposite
to Michael House. It derived its name frorh a
Bedell of the University, William Physwick, who
bequeathed it to Caius College, or, as it was then
called, Gonville Hall, in 1393. In the middle of
the following century it absorbed St. Margaret's
Hostel, a smaller establishment adjoining it on the
north. The entire extent of the ground thus
occupied could not have measured more than two
hundred feet by one hundred and fifty. This
limited extent, however, did not prevent Physwick
Hostel from acquiring considerable celebrity. It
was managed in rather a diiFerent way from other
hostels, as Dr. Caius has recorded with some
minuteness in his history :

*'It was not let out to hire," he says, " as the others were,
but remained the private property of Gonville Hall. It was
a tiny college {j>usillum collegium) rather than a hostel, into
which the superabundant youth of Caius College could over-
flow as into a colony. It was administered by two Principals
— the one exterior, the other interior — who managed the
finances, and directed the studies of the inmates. The
former was appointed by the Master of Caius College,' the
latter elected by the students themselves, who were between
thirty and forty in number. It flourished and maintained its
reputation for many years, educating many eminent and
learned men, some of whom were summoned ta fill honour-
able positions in the parent college, others to hold offices of

state."

The curious arrangement which provided that

The Early History of Trinity College. 107

the selection of one of the Principals should be
made by those whom he was to instruct, is quite
without parallel in university institutions. One
would like to know something more about it ;
what limitations, if any, were imposed upon their
choice ; and whether the Head of Caius College
was allowed a veto upon the regulations of the
hostel, or made suggestions as to the course of
study to be adopted there. Without some such
control life might have been pleasant in Physwick
Hostel, but could hardly have been profitable
according to academic ideas. Of the other hostels
whose position has not yet been mentioned, we
know that St. Katharine's Hostel stood next to
Physwick Hostel to the east ; that Tyled Hostel
was in High Street (now Trinity Street) ; and that
Crouched Hostel and Gregory's Hostel^ which
stood north of Michael House, were afterwards
united under the latter name. All were probably
small buildings, perhaps only single houses, let out
to individuals for the accommodation of students.
They are only worth mentioning as showing the
number of these institutions that were once in
existence, before the establishment of colleger
rendered them unnecessary.

The ancestor in direct line of Trinity College, and
the most important, though not the most ancient,
foundation, was King's Hall. In 13 1 7 we find King

io8 Cambridge,

Edward II. maintaining scholars at Cambridge,
whom he addresses as " our dear clerks, John de
Baggeshote and twelve other children of our chapel
at the University of Cambridge ; " and in 1 336 King
Edward III. purchased for them a dwelling-house
and garden of Robert de Croyland. His charter,
dated 7th of October, 1337, mentions thirty-two
scholars. The house, to be called the King's Hall
of Scholars, or King's Hall, is described as " near
the Hospital of St. John ; " and has been ascer-
tained with tolerable • certainty to have occupied
a considerable part of the eastern half of the
northern division of the site of Trinity College.
It must have been of larger size than medieval
houses in general, for it was capable, without
alteration, of containing the scholars and their
Master. The Master only had a room to himself ;
from two to six scholars were lodged in each of
the others. These scholars were probably sent to
college at about the age when modern boys go to
a public school ; and their position was not very
diiFerent from that of boys on the foundation of
Eton .or Winchester. They were clothed and fed
at the royal expense ; and the accounts that have
come down to us, copies of which were sent by
the Master to the King, record every detail of
their expenditure. So minute are these accounts
— giving all the names of the inmates of the house,

The Early History of Trinity College. 109

down to the cook's son, a lad called '^petite
Wille " — that it would not be diffijcult, had we
time and space enough, to reproduce almost all the
daily doings of the inmates : how they lived, what
they ate, and what they drank. We may perhaps
attempt this on some future occasion. It is usual
to suppose that medieval living was coarse and
rough ; but, at any rate, they had table-cloths and
napkins in hall ; and their food was plentifiil and
varied. A few random extracts from one of these
volumes (ranging from 1337 to 1351) are all that
we have space for now. In the first place, we find
yearly charges for the scholars' robes and furs (pro
robis et furruris)^ which it appears they had some-
times considerable difliculty in procuring, for in
1342 special mention is made of an expenditure
of nearly five pounds, " when suit was made for
our gowns ; " and the refusal of some Fellows to
contribute is noticed with no little acrimony. In
this year there is a curious entry : *' For knives
and pen-cases and ink-horns given to our friends
at court, t8j. 2^." Knives were apparently con-
sidered the most acceptable present for gaining a
person's goodwill ; for hardly a year passes without
a charge for them, with the names of those to
whom they were given. The brewery and the
stable are frequently mentioned, and great care
was taken of the garden ; in each year we meet

no Cambridge.

with charges for seeds, usually parsley and garlic,
and for work done to the vines. A piece of
ground was specially set apart for their cultivation,
and entries such as the following are frequent :
" To one pruning the vineyard, i^." The culture
of vines was pretty general in Cambridge and the
neighbourhood in the fourteenth century. There
are references to it in most early college accounts ;
and at Ely a certain sunny slope is called " the
vineyard " to this day. There is, however, no hint
that amateur wine-making was ever attempted ;
or that a college butler of those days ever com-
mended his liquors with '^ The port, sir, I know
is good, for I made it myself." On the contrary,
there is ample evidence that j-ed wine {yinum
rubeum^ le claret) was imported yearly from abroad.
At King s College the founder made hospitable
provision for the supply of two casks of Gascony
wine every year ; and a charge for making '' ver-
juice '* from the college grapes shows that vinegar
for salads was probably the only liquid they pro-
duced. Numerous entries for poles and posts and
frames for the vines point to their use in providing
shady retreats from the summer sun. The study
of a few of the early codes of college statutes,
joined to that of such account-books as these,
shows that every college was intended to contain
within the precincts all that was necessary for the

The Early History of Trinity College. 1 1 1

religion, the studies, and the recreation of the
inmates, as in a modern public school. The most
minute directions for the dress and deportment of
the scholars are given in the statutes. A pre-
cedent for this had been set by Walter de Merton
at Oxford, who prescribes generally that his
scholars are to be dressed decorously, to cultivate
seemly behaviour, to be quiet in Hall and listen to
a reader, or, if obliged to address each other, to
speak Latin. These directions were elaborated in
subsequent codes at Cambridge. Spejcial vanities
in dress are forbidden by name ; such as, red or
green shoes, girdles enriched with gold or silver,
rings on the fingers, swords and daggers, long hair
or beards ; neither dogs, falcons, nor hawks might
be kept, nor tournaments attended. At King's
College no scholar might go beyond the gates
unless accompanied by a Fellow, another scholar,
or a servant. Latin is to be used at meals ; but
at King's Hall French was permitted as an alter-
native. The Bible, however, was to be read aloud
during dinner, so that the cultivation of colloquial
Latin could not have made much progress. In
contrast to this severity of discipline, the comfort
and economical living of the students was every-
where considered. Their bread was baked, and
their beer brewed, within the College walls. Salt
provisions were much used, and on fast-days salt

112 Cambridge.

fish This was bought in large quantities at
Lynn Mart or Ely Fair, and stowed in the College
storehouse till required. Their clothes were
washed in the College laundry, and their chins
shaved by the College barber. Exercise was pro-
vided according to the extent of the grounds. A
College with a large garden could find room for
archery. Of the sixteen older Colleges thirteen
had bowling-greens, nine had tennis-courts, and
eight had both. In the winter the performance of
plays took place. These were usually the classical
compositions of Plautus or Terence, but in later
times an original comedy was occasionally per-
mitted. It is time, however, to leave these
domestic details, and return to the buildings.

It was not long before the limits of Robert
de Croyland's messuage proved too narrow for the
community, and by the beginning of Richard the
Second's reign we find them engaged in building
operations. Colleges — especially newly-founded
ones — do not build rapidly, and it was not until
1425 that the usual quadrangular area was com-
pleted. This was a diminutive court about forty
feet square, on the northern limit of the site, just
behind the north-west corner of the present chapel.
Small as it was, it contained all the necessary
offices — hall, oratory, parlour, kitchen, bakehouse
— and access to these different buildings was

The Early History of Trinity College. 113

obtained from a cloister. In a few years the
west side of the college was prolonged south-
wards as far as the boundary lane, and returned
along it eastwards. Opposite to *' Foul Lane " a
large gateway with four turrets was constructed,
adorned with the royal arms, and a figure of a
king, carved in stone and painted. This is" the
statue of King Edward IIL, Tertius Edwardus
FAMA SUPER iETHERA NOTus, as the inscription
records — which gave its name to the gate, and
which is still to be seen in a seventeenth-century
niche adorning the mutilated remnants of the
original structure. Up to the middle of Edward
the Fourth's reign the parish churches of All
Saints and St. Mary's had been used by the king's
scholars for their devotions, but they then built
a chapel private to themselves. There is reason
to Jbelieve that it stood, in part, on the same
ground as the existing chapel does, and some
fragments of its walls are probably imbedded
in the more modern ones. Lastly, at the begin-
ning of the sixteenth century, an extension of the
site towards the south having been at last effected,
and the eastern half of the old " King's Hall
Lane " closed, the foundation of the splendid gate
of entrance was laid. It was not completed until
1535? ^^d was the last work executed by the
community of King's Hall before their dissolution.

9

1

114 Cambridge.

When the union of the colleges, whose history
and position we have thus briefly traced, had
been brought about, the old thoroughfares were
closed, and the new college found itself in
possession of a number of buildings, scattered
over the area of the Great Court, but not con-
nected together by any unity of plan. The Society
possessed, besides various buildings in which their
members might be lodged, at least three halls,
but only one chapel, of no great size, no con-
venient master's lodge, and no regular ranges of
chambers suitable for a community consisting,
probably, of about three hundred persons. After
executing a number of necessary repairs, they built
a proper lodging for the Master. Next, the chapel
was undertaken, which was begun in 1555, and
completed, or at any rate the eastern portion of
it, in 1564, as the date on the eastern gable shows.
There is a tradition that the founder had himself
intended to build a chapel in this position ; and
it is unquestionable that Queen Mary and Queen
Elizabeth both interested themselves in its pro-
gress. We may console ourselves, therefore, when
the beauty of the building is called in question, as
it often is, by reflecting that the design may have
been suggested by Henry VIII., and was certainly
carried out by his daughters.

3 ¥

1

V.

The Further History of Trinity College.

THE Great Court of Trinity College, of which
we have already given an illustration, is the
largest in either University, having an area of
90,180 square feet; while that of Christ Church,
Oxford, the next largest, with which it is natural
to compare it, has an area of only 74,520 square
feet. Nor is it in mere size that the Cambridge
quadrangle is superior. The irregularity both of
its dimensions and of the position of its buildings
produces a more pleasing architectural effect than
the formal correctness of Wolsey^s design at
Oxford. Though at first sight it appears to be
completely regular, it is in reality exactly the
reverse. The sides that are opposite to each
other are not of the same length, none of the
angles are right angles, and the fountain is not
placed at the intersection of the diagonals. In
criticising the two quadrangles, however, it must
be remembered that that of Christ Church was

1 1 8 Cambridge.

never completed by the founder, and has since
been added to and altered in a very unsuitable
manner; while the success of the Great Court
of Trinity is due to a fortunate accident rather
than to a deliberate effort of genius on the part
of the architect.

The transformation of the Great Court is due
entirely to the taste and energy of Dr. Thomas
Nevile, who became Master in 1593. He, as
Fuller quaintly puts it, ^^ answering his anagram
most heavenly^ and practising his own allusive
motto, ne vile velis^^ not only transformed the
incongruous buildings into the stately order we
admire at present, but erected, at his own charge,
the additional court which still bears his name.
He called to his aid an experienced architect,
Ralph Symons, who had built Emmanuel College
(1584-86), and who afterwards built Sidney
Sussex College (1596-98), and the second court
of St. John's College (i 598-1 602). Under his
direction those portions of the older collegiate
structures that could not be incorporated into a
quadrangular arrangement were pulled down, and
the eastern and western sides of the quadrangle,
with the Queens' Gate in the latter, were erected.
One portion alone of the older buildings was con-
sidered either too beautiful, or too historically
interesting, to be wholly swept away. The Gate

The Cam near Trinity College, with the Tower
ofSt.Johtis Chapel.

The Further History of Trinity College. 121

of Edward III. was then standing at the end of
a range of chambers projecting into the area of
the court at right angles to the chapel. It was
obviously necessary to pull it down, but, in order
to preserve at least the facade, it was erected
afresh against the west end of the chapel, the west
window of which was blocked to receive it. To
Nevile we owe also the lovely fountain, erected
in 1602, the Hall, erected in 1604, and the
northern half of the Master's lodge, with the
dining-room and large drawing-room over it.
An additional storey was added to the great gate,
with the statue of Henry VIII. on the exterior,
and those of King James, his Queen, and Prince
Charles, on the interior. Nevile must further be
thanked for the acquisition of the ground on
which the New Court now stands, and of the
spacious gardens beyond the river, where the
avenue of lime-trees was afterwards planted — the
portion between the bridge and the road, in 1674,
and that between the college and the bridge,
in 1716. The distant spire of the village church
of Coton was formerly visible at the end of this
delightful arcade of trees, framed in green foliage,
whence the avenue used to be pointed to as a
type of a College Fellowship — being a long, but
not unpleasant road, with a church at the end
of it. But " the old order changeth, giving place

122 Cambridge.

to new ; " and ecclesiastical rewards are no longer
looked forward to as the natural close of a suc-
cessful academic career.

The Hall, the west side of which is well shown
in the drawing which illustrates our last chapter,
was copied, with certain alterations, from that
of the Middle Temple. The same illustration
exhibits the plan of Dr. Nevile's Court, which is
a building of two floors, raised upon the arcades
of a spacious and well-proportioned cloister.
When first built, each side was subdivided by-
pilasters into compartments of four arches each.
They were richly ornamented, and must have
broken the uniformity of the wall in a very
agreeable manner. Other and smaller pilasters
divided the windows of the first floor. These
latter were alternately solid, and pierced to receive
the spouts which discharged the rainwater, not,
as at present, into drains, but on to the floor
of the court below. The second storey was
finished oiF by a series of picturesque gables,
one over each window. These details have been
preserved to us in one of Loggan's admirable
views, taken in or about 1688, without which
their existence would never have been suspected.
In 1755 the stone of which the walls were built
had become decayed, and the whole structure
was considered dangerous. Mr. Essex, a local

The Further History of Trinity College. 123

architect, whose life was spent in destroying that
which ought to have been preserved, was called
in; and under his direction the walls were se-
curely built, the whole system of decoration was
swept away, and the picturesque gables were re-
placed by a balustrade of a heavy classical cha-
racter, whose only merit is that it harmonises
exceedingly well with that of the Library on
the west side of the Court.

It should be mentioned that Nevile's Court was
originally shorter by two compartments, or eight
arcades, than it is at present. These were supplied
by the munificence of Sir Thomas Sclater, Mr.
Humphry Babington, and other benefactors, aided
by the College funds, after the erection of the
Library which was commenced by the exertions of
Dr. Barrow, Master, in 1675. Th^ architect was
Sir Christopher Wren. A contemporary annalist
records the following curious story respecting it :

"They say that Dr. Barrow pressed the Heads of the
University to build a Theatre, it being a Profanation and
Scandal that the Speeches should be had in the University
Church, and that also be deformed with Scaffolds and defiled
with rude Crowds and Outcries. This Matter was formally
considered at a Council of the Heads, and Arguments of
Difficulty and want of Supplies went strong against it. Dr.
Barrow assured them that if they made a sorry Building,
they might fail of Contributions ; but if they made it very
magnificent and stately, and at least exceeding that at

1

1 24 Cambridge.

Oxford, all Gentremen of their Interest would generously
contribute. But sage Caution prevailed, and the Matter, at
that Time, was wholly laid aside. Dr. Barrow was piqued
at this Pusillanimity, and declared that he would go straight
to his College, and lay out the Foundations of a Building to
enlarge his back-court, and close it with a stately Library,
which should be more magnificent and costly than what he
had proposed to tKem, and doubted not but, upon the
Interest of his College, in a short Time to bring it to
Perfection. And he was as good as his Word, for that very
Afternoon, he, with his Gardiners and Servants, staked out
the very Foundation upon which the Building now
stands : and the admirable Disposition and Proportion on
the Inside is such as touches the very Soul of any one who
first sees it."

A more noble repository for books it would be
hard to find. The great architect fortunately
condescended to design the book-cases, desks,
seats, and other internal fittings; so that the
interior, as well as the exterior, bears the impress
of his perfect taste and excellent judgment. The
floor is paved with black and white marble, set in
squares ; and ranged along the sides, against the
cases, are marble busts of the chief worthies of
the College, many due to the chisel of Roubiliac,
among which those of the naturalists, Ray and
Willoughby, are pre-eminent for beauty of execu-
tion. At the end fiirthest from the door, in the
middle of the central space, is the statue of Lord
Byron by Thorwaldsen, originally intended for

The Further History of Trinity College. 125

Westminster Abbey. It has been objected that
Lord Byron is not the greatest name in literature
that Trinity College could produce, and that
therefore the place of honour in the library should
not be assigned to him. When a sculptor can
execute a finer statue of a greater man, it will be
time to dethrone him. Meanwhile, let the work
of art remain, a fitting companion to the busts
that had been put there before it.

The Great Court remained as Nevile left it
until the Mastership of Dr. Richard Bentley
( 1 700-1 742), a period which has achieved an
unfortunate notoriety for a series of the most
extraordinary and bitter disputes between the
Master and the Fellows. At the time of
Benjtley's appointment to this important office, he
had just triumphantly routed a formidable array
of wits and critics who had ventured to assert the
genuineness of the Epistles of Phalaris. It was
admitted by those best qualified to pronounce an
opinion that Bentley 's victory was crushing and
complete ; nor does it now appear that he over-
stepped the proper limits of literary controversy.
At the time, however, his opponents did not
know when they were beaten. An anonymous
pamphleteer took refuge in abuse, and brought
out "A Short Account of Dr. Bentley's Humanity
and Justice to those Authors who have written

1

126 Cambridge.

before him, &c., &c. ; " and another. Dr. Garth,
affected to consider Bentley's adversary, Mr. Boyle,
as the victor in the fray. In his poem, " The
Dispensary," the following couplet occurs :

" So diamonds take a lustre from their foil,
And to a Bentley 'tis we owe a Boyle."

Bentley's once famous " Dissertation " has long
since taken its place in the list of books that are
much talked of but little read ; and he is better
known in Cambridge by the undignified squabbles
that disgraced his Mastership, or by the bitter
lines of Pope, who, in the " Dunciad," makes him
introduce himself to Dullness as

" Thy mighty Scholiast, whose unwearied pains
Made Horace dull and humbled Milton's strains ;
Turn what they will to verse, their toil is, vain,
Critics like me shall make it prose again."

It might have been expected that the Master-
ship of such a college as Trinity would have been
regarded by a man of his studious habits as a
peaceful haven, where he might pursue his
favourite occupations for the rest of his life
without let or hindrance. The result, however,
was exactly the reverse. From the very com-
mencement of his tenure of office, he set himself
in opposition to the Fellows ; and from that time

The Further History of Trinity College. 127

until his death he worked amidst the din of
incessant battle, rather than in that serene at-
mosphere of University existence, which is popu-
larly believed to be unruffled by the tempests
that agitate the outer world. It must be admitted
that it would have required no ordinary tact and
temper to make his appointment the success that
the advisers of the Crown intended it to be. He
was from the first unpopular, as a member of St.
John's College; and he did not improve matters
by replying to a congratulation in the words of
the Psalm, '^ By the help of my God I have leaped
over the wall.*' Again, he was sent to Trinity
as a reformer. The college had been declining
in numbers and reputation for some years ; the
kindness and good-nature of the two preceding
Masters, Dr. North and Dr. Montague, had
produced a relaxation of discipline, which had in
turn caused both good manners and literature to
decline ; appointments to Fellowships and Scholar-
ships had been made from favour of the ruling
powers, and not from merit only, as should have
been the case then, and has always been the case
since ; and, lastly, education was in a transitional
state — the old learning of the schoolmen was neg-
lected and despised, and a more vigorous system
having not yet been adopted, the college was in an
intermediate state of torpor, from which it needed

128 Cambridge.

a vigorous intellect to awaken it. Those, how-
ever, who are content to doze away their lives in
an easy routine are certain to resent the passionate
eagerness of a thorough reformer. Interference
from any one would, at that time, have en-
countered violent opposition at Trinity. But a
college of which Newton and Cotes were Fellows
would soon have declared itself on the side of
literary and scientific progress ; and it is sad to
think of the opportunity that Bentley missed,
thanks to his own perverse and headstrong
character. For it is clear that, notwithstanding
all that happened, there was a party ready to
support him on all occasions so long as support
was possible ; and that party consisted of the best
and most learned men in the University.

The story of Dr. Bentley's career has been
admirably told by Bishop Monk.^ In his clear
and accurate narrative the reader who desires to
know more about this dismal period, will be able
to follow the shifting fortunes of the combatants :
Bentley's first attacks upon a society that he
heartily despised, and for a time fi-ightened into
abject submission ; the appearance of Serjeant
Miller on the scene, under whose valiant leader-

^ "The Life of Richard Bentley, D.D., Master of Trinity
College." By James Henry Monk, D.D., Lord Bishop of
Gloucester. 2 vols., 8vo. London, 1833.

The Further History of Trinity College. 1 29

ship the Fellows turned the tide of war against
their enemy by an appeal to the Master's Visitor,
Bishop Moore of Ely ; Bentley's hairbreadth
escape from deprivation by the sudden death of
the Bishop, followed shortly afterwards by that
of the Queen ; down to the humiliation of the
Doctor on a totally different count by an over-
whelming vote of the Senate, when, on the 17th
of October, 17 18, a grace for degrading him was
carried by a majority of fifty-eight votes, and,
as a contemporary diarist records, " The great Dr.
Bentley was reduced to be a bare Harry-Soph,
being not able to gain above fifty votes in the
whole University ; though a great many did
indeed stay away, that they might not oiFend him
by voting against him ; yet one hundred and eight
appeared against him."

The dispute began over a complete repair to
the Master's Lodge, which involved external as
well as internal changes, for Bentley insisted upon
the introduction of sash-windows towards the
Great Court ; and further, without specific autho-
rity from the Seniors, built the handsome staircase
which leads to the first floor. When these altera-
tions were first proposed, it was stated by him
that they would cost ;^3Co or ;^400, at least so it
was said ; and when at last the expense was found
to be three or four times that amount, the Seniors,

10

i 30 Cambridge.

who had meanwhile become greatly irritated against
Bentley for his arrogant assumption of imperial
power, disregard of themselves, and seclusion from
the society of the Fellows, refused to sanction the
payment. It was on this occasion that he inquired
*' whether they had forgotten his rusty sword ? "
and when the Bursar forbade the workmen to
proceed, he told him ** he would send him into the
country to feed his turkeys." Shortly after this
the indignant Master showed the College that he
could use his sword to some effect ; for he went
the length of refusing his sanction to the election
of any Fellow to a College Preachership (which
was at that time necessary in order to hold Church
preferment together with a Fellowship) until the
money was paid. After a resistance of two years,
the Seniors yielded. Bentley's next great archi-
tectural work was the internal decoration of the
Chapel, with oak panelling and stalls, and an
organ, built by the celebrated Father Smith. The
Fellows were persuaded to subscribe a year's
dividend each ; an unfortunate measure for them,
for, in the vears 1703 and 1704, owing to the great
expenses of the College, only half a dividend had
been received. They, therefore, found their income
anticipated, and actual distress was the result in
several cases. All the comfort they got, however,
from their pitiless tyrant was that **he expected

The Further History of Trinity College. 131

their complaints, but that it would be all one twenty
years hence." Shortly after this, in consequence
of an attempt to alter the system of dividends,
thirty of the Fellows plucked up courage, and
drew out a case against their Master, which they
submitted to the Bishop of Ely. It is a most
curious and entertaining document, being thrown
into an interrogative form, as the following
paragraphs show :

** Why did you according to your own Will and Pleasure
cause so many and so large Rooms to be wainscotted in your
said Lodge, which could only be designed to entertain
Boarders therein for your private Gain, and make many
other costly and needless Alterations and Additions, and
that without the Advice, Consent, or Direction of the Senior
Fellows, or the Bursars, or either of them, as the said
College-Statutes require ?

"Why were the several Punishments, Disgraces, and In-
juries, imposed on several Fellows, and many Scholars,
during your Mastership, without any hearing, statutable
Convictions, or Authority ; and that in an insolent manner,
by saying. Hie est Indus jocusque, you were not warm yet, or
to that Effect ?

"Why did you use scurrilous Words and Language to several
of the Fellows, particularly by calling Mr. Eden an Ass, and
Mr. Rasely the College Dog, and by telling Mr. CocJ^ he
would die in his Shoes, and calling many others Fools and
Sots and other scurrilous Names ; and also use several other
Expressions contrary to the 20th Chapter of the said College
Statutes, as Farewell Peace to Trinity College^ and many
others of the like Nature ?

" Why did you prophanely and blasphemously use and

132 Cambridge.

apply several Expressions in Scripture ? As, He that honours
me^ I will honour, I set Life or Death before you, choose you
whether, or to that eiFect ? "

To this challenge Bentley was not slow in
replying. He presently drew up, in the form of
a '^ Letter to the Bishop of Ely," a bitter invective
against those who had presumed to prefer against
him a complaint, which he politely describes as
" the last struggle and effort of vice and idleness
against virtue, learning, and good discipline."
Here, however, we must conclude our brief
narrative of this great quarrel, which, as it lasted
for nearly forty years, illustrated and augmented
by numerous controversial pamphlets by both
actors and spectators, is an almost inexhaustible
mine for the study of academic opinions and
customs of that time.

The classical facade imposed upon the Lodge
by Bentley lasted till 1842, when the Mastership
of Dr. Whewell was inaugurated by a restoration
of the front, though unfortunately the semicircular
oriel was not rebuilt. Towards this work Mr.
Beresford-Hope contributed ^^ 1,000 — an act of
munificence commemorated by an inscription on
the oriel. At that time Dr. Whewell was not so
popular as his great talents and high character
ought to have made him. A brusque and some-
what haughty manner was mistaken for pride ; and

The Further History of Trinity College. 133

the conjunction of his name with Mr. Hope's in
the inscription gave rise to much indignant and
unfavourable comment. A wag composed a
parody on " The House that Jack built," which
began thus :

*' This is the House that Hope built.
This is the Master, rude and rough,
Who lives in the House that Hope built.
These are the Seniors, greedy and gruiF,
Who toady the Master, rude and rough.
Who lives in the house that Hope built."

The only other important alteration to the
court is the construction of the Combination
Room, in 1771, under Essex, to effect which a
hideous Italian front replaced the picturesque oriel
shown by Loggan.

The New Court — or, as it was intended to be
called, the King's Court, because George IV.
contributed towards the cost of it ^1,000— was
begun in 1823. The architect was Mr. Wilkins.
The ceremony of laying the first stone was the
occasion of a feast, which feast was the occasion of
a serious difference of opinion between the Master
and Seniors on the one hand, and the undergraduate
members of the College on the other. It was
decided that the latter might come to dinner if
they chose, but might not stay to hear the speeches
afterwards. Indignant at what they regarded as a

134 Cambridge.

slight on their good breeding, they preferred to
stay away altogether ; and, much to the surprise
of the Fellows, the lower part of the hall remained
empty. The next day the following poetical
epistle from an undergraduate of Trinity to a
friend at Oxford made its appearance. The
motto was intended to indicate the preference
shown to the masters of arts, who wore black
gowns, over the undergraduates, who wore blue
ones :

((

Out spake the Rover to his gallant crew^

Up with the blac\ Jiagy and down with the blue^

"There was a feast, a mighty feast,

For Science and the Gown ;
The College buildings were increased,

The Speaker was come down ;
And men of war, and men of prayer,
And men of every sort were there,
Peer and Professor, Monk and Mayor,

And Simeonite and sinner ;
Sweating and swearing, fretting and frying ;
Bowing and bustling, crowding and crying ;
And very fond of speechifying.

And very fond of dinner.

Then looking big, and looking blue.
Out-spake unto his gallant crew
The gracious king of Trinity :

' 'Tis contrary to rule and right
That we, the Seniors, should invite.

The Further History of Trinity College. 135

To see us drink and hear us speak,
The beardless bunglers in bad Greek,

The learners of Latinity.
We will not make the striplings sick
With claret and with rhetoric ;
The stream of eloquence and liquor
Shall only flow for Vice and Vicar,
The Court and Caput sweetly blent,
And members of the Parliament,

And Doctors of Divinity.
'Tis proper for young men to pay.
And keep the peace, and keep away ;
They'll find the dinner quite a treat.
And hear the band, and eat the meat ;
But to stay drinking — strange vagary
For men in statu pupillari^

All undergraduates are vermin

The conclave did that day determine.

For fear of noise and squeeze.
The Master should remove at once
The emptiness of dish and dunce.
Thick beer and thirsty bachelor.
Plum-pudding and pert pensioner.

Young scholar and old cheese.
That all unseen and all unheard.
The ancient ones might be absurd ;
That all might join in port and pranks.
In reasoning and returning thanks ;
That Medallists might praise the haunches.
And Wranglers fight about the branches ;
And sober Tutors drain the bottle.
And pedants quote from Aristotle !
A child might see how this would end.

136 Cambridge.

Hot were our passions, O my friend,

And very hot the weather.
We all resolved, in either court.
To cut the business very short.

And cut it altogether.

Was it a most atrocious sin

To hurry to the 'Eagle Inn,'

And there to fret, and there to fume.

In a great passion and small room ?

Perhaps it was. I only know,

I sat me down at five or so,

And dined upon a charming plan.

Clean cloth, stewed eels, and Mary Anne.

I am egregiously witty,

And Mary Anne is rather pretty ;

And so we grew immensely merry.

And drank the Doctor's health in sherry."

Before leaving Trinity College,' it will be
interesting to mention where some of the great
men who have made the College famous resided.
Sir Isaac Newton occupied, from 1679 to 1696,
the rooms on the first floor to the north of the
Great Gateway. The space between the chapel
and the entrance to the College is laid out as a
garden, which, in those days, and until a few years
ago, was rendered private by a high wall. This
was attached to the rooms in question. In
Newton's time, as Loggan's print shows, it was
laid out in trim flower-beds, with three trees close
to the staircase leading down to it. In the next

The Further History of Trinity College. 137

century the rooms were assigned to Dr. Richard
Walker, whose close friendship for, and subser-
vience to, Bentley, has gained him a niche in the
" Dunciad." When the great critic appears,

" His hat, which never vail'd to human pride,
Walker with rev'rence took, and laid aside : "

and at the end of his speech he cries, —

" * Walker ! our hat ; ' nor more he deigned to say ;
But, stern as Ajax* spectre, strode away."

It is recorded that during Walker's time every
relic of Newton's studies and experiments was
" respectfully preserved to the minutest par-
ticular," and pointed out to visitors " with the
most circumstantial precision." The noble statue
of him, by Roubiliac, which occupies the place of
honour at the west end of the ante-chapel, was
given in 1755 by Dr. Robert Smith, Master.
The beauty of it as a work of art has been amply
recognised by the best judges. Chantrey called it
" the noblest of our English statues," and Words-
worth has recorded how he used to lie awake at
night and think of it, when the moonlight shone
upon

" The ante-chapel, where the statue stood
Of Newton, with his prism and silent face ;
The marble index of a mind for ever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought alone.*'

138 Cambridge.

In the rooms under these William Makepeace
Thackeray resided. It was probably in remem-
brance of them that he placed Henry Esmond in
"comfortable rooms in the great court close by
the gate, and near to the famous Mr. Newton's
lodgings." The rooms next the chapel, on the
ground-floor of the same staircase, belonged to
Macaulay. His biographer, Mr. Trevelyan, after
recording this fact, proceeds as follows :

" From the door of these rooms there runs a flagged path-
way which affords an acceptable relief from the rugged
pebbles that surround it. Here, as a Bachelor of Arts, he
would walk, book in hand, morning after morning, through-
out the Long Vacation, reading with the same eagerness and
the same rapidity, whether the volume was the most abstruse
of treatises, the loftiest of poems, or the flimsiest of novels.
That was the spot where in his failing years he specially
loved to renew the feelings of the past ; and some there are
who can never revisit it without the fancy that there, if any-
where, his dear shade must linger."

Lord Byron's rooms are said to have been on
the north side of Nevile's Court, those on the first
floor on the west side of the central staircase. His
own account of the wild life that he led in them,
with the " large assortment of jockeys, gamblers,
boxers, authors, parsons, and poets," that he
gathered together, are probably parts of that love
of exaggeration of his own defects which was one
of his strajigest characteristics. The tame bear.

a
J

The Further History of Trinity College. 139

" his new friend, the finest in the world," who was
" to sit for a fellowship," was not, however, kept
in College, as is often reported, but in a more
appropriate locality — a stable in the Ram Yard.
Another legend places Byron's rooms at the west
end of the first floor on the south side of the same
court ; and it was to these that Countess Guiccioli,
then Madame de Boissy, the lady who had been
the object of his last and most enduring attach-
ment, had been directed, when, some thirty years
after her lover's death, she made a pilgrimage to
Cambridge for the purpose of seeing the place
where he had lived as a young man. She had given
no notice of her visit, and the gentleman to whom
she brought a letter of introduction was not at
home when she arrived. On the stairs she met
one of the Senior Fellows, of whom she inquired
if she could see Byron's rooms, of which he was
himself the occupier. He, thinking she was an
ordinary sightseer, with a taste for romantic poetry,
good-naturedly acquiesced. She examined the rooms
carefully for some moments, and took her leave. At
dinner afterwards, the gentleman whom she had
meant to visit, having found her letter and card,
mentioned his disappointment at having missed
her. ** Ah ! '' said the other, " so that was Countess
Guiccioli ! I thought the lady took an uncommon
interest in the rooms I showed her ! " Byron did

^

140 Cambridge,

not make a good impression in College. Those
who remembered him never spoke kindly of him,
and stories are still current of his bad taste and his
morbid sensitiveness. Once, on going out of Hall,
he forgot himself so far as to mimic the gestures
of the Master as he walked behind him towards
the Combination Room, He was fond of boxing,
and affected the society of Jackson, the celebrated
pugilist, with whom he often walked and drove in
public. When his tutor, Mr. Tavel, remonstrated
with him on being seen in company so much be-
neath his rank, he replied, *' Really, sir, I cannot
understand you. With the single exception of
yourself, I can assure you that Mr. Jackson's
manners are infinitely superior to those of the
Fellows of the College whom I meet at the high
table." The late Master of Magdalene, Mr.
George Neville Grenville, when a freshman, was
one day at his rooms to take wine after the early
dinner in Hall. When the party separated to
attend a concert in the Senate House, Byron and
Neville walked together. The pavement was
narrow, and Neville fell behind Byron out of
politeness. Instead of thanking him for his cour-
tesy, Byron exclaimed, "Ah ! I see what it is ;
you want to spy out my deformity."

The two Tennysons, Alfred and Charles, never
had rooms in College. The former lodged at first

A

i

The Further History of Trinity College. 141

in the Rose Crescent ; afterwards the brothers had
rooms together in a house opposite the Bull Hotel.
Arthur Hallam " kept " in the New Court, on the
central staircase of the south side, in the set of
rooms on the first floor to the right as the staircase
is faced. The stanzas in " In Memoriam," where
the poet says, "Up that long walk of limes I past,
to see the rooms in which he dwelt," have become
the parent of a tradition that Hallam's rooms were
on the west side of the court. The plain sense
of the words, however, is, that he entered the New
Court by the avenue, and so came to the well-
known staircase.

" Another name was on the door :
I lingered; all within was noise
Of songs, and clapping hands, and boys
That crashed the glass and beat the floor ;

Where once we held debate, a band
Of youthful friends, on mind and art
And labour, and the changing mart,

And all the framework of the land."

VI.

King's College.

THE history of Trinity College, growing as it
did out of the small medieval foundations
of Michael House and King's Hall, led us away
from the distant times in which they were first
established almost to our own days. The stately
chapel of King's College, however, — the last
thoroughly medieval structure erected in Cam-
bridge, — which, notwithstanding the changes and
chances of the long period that elapsed between
its foundation and completion, bears indelibly the
stamp of the age in which it was planned, will
carry us back to the period in University history
from which we diverged.

The fourteenth century had witnessed the es-
tablishment, within less than thirty years, of no
less than five colleges : Clare Hall, Pembroke
Hall, Gonville Hall, Trinity Hall, and Corpus
Christi College, all founded between 1326 and

King's College. 143

1352. After this there is a break of nearly a
century, during which nothing was done either by
royal or private munificence. The accession of
Henry the Sixth was the signal for a fresh depar-
ture. Not only did he found his own magnificent
college, but his Queen, Margaret of Anjou,
established- a second in its immediate neighbour-
hood in 1448. As Fuller quaintly puts it :
" Indeed, as Miltiades' trophy in Athens would
not suffer Themistocles to sleep, so this Queen,
beholding her husband's bounty in building King's
College, was restless in herself with holy emulation
until she had produced something of the like
nature. A strife wherein wives, without breach
of duty, may contend with their husbands which
should exceed in pious performances.*' She pro-
posed to call it the College of St. Margaret and
St. Bernard, but after her husband's deposition the
name was changed. Andrew Docket, the first
master, who had been appointed to that office by
Queen Margaret, hastened with pardonable sub-
servience to ingratiate himself with her successor,
and so cleverly did he manage that Elizabeth
Woodville consented to be named as co-foundress,
and the college became " the Queens' College of
St. Margaret and St. Bernard," now familiarly
known simply as Queens' College. This foundation
was succeeded by that of St. Catharine's College,

1 44 Cambridge.

founded in 1475 ^7 Robert Wodelarke, third
Provost of King's College.

It was on the 12 th of February, 1441, when
Henry of Windsor was only nineteen years old,
that he signed the charter of his first foundation
for a Rector and twelve scholars only, which he
proposed to call " The Royal College of St.
Nicholas," in commemoration of the saint on
whose day he had been born. This college would
have been no larger than those previously founded,
and moreover, from the nature of the ground,
was incapable of future extension. It is difficult
to understand how the Commissioners employed
by the King — one of whom was Dr. John
Langton, then Master of Pembroke Hall and
Vice-Chancellor of the University — came to select
a site so cramped and so inconvenient. It had
Milne Street, then one of the principal thorough-
fares of the town, on the west ; the University
Library and Schools on the east ; and a public
lane on the north. On the south side only, which
was also the narrowest, had it any outlet at all,
and even there the ground available for that
indispensable appendage to a medieval college,
a garden, was extremely narrow. We ought, per-
haps, to be grateful for the selection of ground
which the scholars presently discovered to be too
small for their accommodation ; for they lost no

King's College. 145

time in petitioning the King to provide them with
ampler habitations, and it was partly in consequence
of that prayer of theirs that he acquired the larger
site, and planned the noble college whereof Stow
remarks " that if the rest of the house had
proceeded according to the chappell (as his foil
intent and meaning was) the like colledge could
scarce have been found againe in any Christian
land/'

There were, however, other motives determining
the King's action in this matter. It must be
remembered that shortly before the foundation of
the college at Cambridge, on October 1 1 , 1 440,
he had signed the charter of foundation of Eton
College. Previous to this, in July of the same
year, he had visited Winchester, and studiecj
carefoUy, from personal observation, the working
of William of Wykeham's system of education.
It does not appear, however, that he all at once
conceived the idea of connecting his school and
college together ; in fact, there is evidence that he
at first intended that the two. should be indepen-
dent. Subsequently, however, either fi-om personal
conviction or from the influence of those about
him, he determined that his Eton scholars should
participate in the Cambridge foundation. In the
charter granted to King's College, July 10, 1443,
he says : . ^,

II

1 46 Cambridge.

"It is our fixed and unalterable purpose, being moved
thereto, as we trust, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit,
that our poor scholars of our Royal foundation of St. Mary
of Eton, after they have been sufficiently taught the first
rudiments of grammar, shall be transferred thence to our
aforesaid College of Cambridge, which we will shall be
henceforth denominated Our College Royal of St. Mary and
St. Nicholas, there to be more thoroughly instructed in a
liberal course of study, in other branches of knowledge, and
other professions."

Furthermore, in order to '* weld the two colleges
together in an everlasting bond of brotherhood,"
he ordains that the name of Rector shall be
abolished, and the Eton title of Provost be adopted
for the Head ; and that for all time the college
shall be known by the title of " Provost and
Scholars,*' and have all the rights and privileges
before granted to it.

The acquisition of the new site was begun at
once, A fresh commission was issued for the pur-
pose, and as each parcel of ground was obtained,
it was conveyed to the college. The task was
beset with difficulties that would have daunted a
mind less firmly resolved on carrying out the end
in view than the King's ; difficulties, indeed, that
would have been insuperable except by royal
influence, backed by a royal purse. The ground
on which King's College now stands was then
densely populated. It occupied nearly the whole

Kings College. 147

of the parish of St. John Baptist, whose church is
believed to have stood near the west end of the
chapel. Milne Street crossed the site from north
to south, in a direction that may be easily identified
fi-om the two ends of the street that still remain,
under the names of Trinity Hall Lane and
Queens' Lane. The space between Milne Street
and Trumpington Street, then called High Street,
was occupied by the houses and gardens of different
proprietors, and was traversed by a narrow
thoroughfare called Piron Lane, leading from
High Street to St. John's Church. At the corner
of Milne Street and this lane, occupying the
ground on which about half the ante-chapel now
stands, was the small college called God's House,
founded in 1439 by William Byngham, for the
study of grammar, which, as he observes in his
petition to Henry VL for leave to found it, " is
the rote and grounde of all other sciences." On
the west side of Milne Street, between it and the
river, were the hostels of St. Austin, St. Nicholas,
and St. Edmund, besides many dwelling-houses.
This district was traversed by several lanes,
affording to the townspeople ready access to the
river, and to a wharf on its bank called Salthithe.
No detailed account has been preserved of the
negotiations necessary for the acquisition of this
ground, between six and seven acres in extent, and

148 Cambridge.

in the very heart of Cambridge. From some of
the conveyances, however, we get curious and
significant glimpses of the hard terms enforced by
the vendors, who naturally were not loth to seize
so golden an opportunity for enriching themselves ;
and of the heart-burnings that the sequestration
of so much property for college purposes gave rise
to. The greatest offence appears to have been
given by the closing of the lanes leading down to
the river, which, as we explained in the first
chapter, was of primary importance to medieval
Cambridge as a highway. In five years' time,
however, the difficulties were all got over ; the
town yielded up, though not with the best grace,
the portion of Milne Street required, and all the
other thoroughfares ; the hostels were suppressed,
or transferred to other sites ; the church of St.
John was pulled down, and the parish united to
that of St. Edward, whose church bears evidence,
by the spacious aisles attached to its choir, of the
extension rendered necessary at that time by the
addition of the members of Clare Hall and Trinity
Hall to the number of its parishioners. By a
charter confirmed by the Parliament of 1449, ^^^
splendid site was conveyed to the Provost and
Scholars, together with the ground beyond this
river, now the college gardens ; ample revenues
were granted to them ; and the Founder bade

South Porch of King's College Chapel.

King's College. 151

them take possession of the new site, erect buildings
upon it, and flourish there " as well or even better
, than they and their predecessors had done on the
site originally assigned to them."

The buildings of the extended college were
commenced by the laying of the first stone of
the chapel, on St. James' Day (July 25th), 1446.
The buildings of Eton had been begun just five
years before, July 3, 1441. Neither of these
colleges was completed according to the inten-
tions of the Founder, and we should be left to
conjecture what those intentions were had he
not fortunately committed to writing his detailed
scheme for both in a document called " The
Will of King Henry the Sixth." The term
" Will " does not signify a testament, but an
expression of his deliberate purpose with regard
to the arrangement of the buildings, the payment
of the principal workmen, and the assignment
of funds to defray the expense. This document,
signed in March, 1448, is on several grounds
one of the most remarkable works in the
English language. The design which it describes
is a marvellous union of beauty and convenience,
and the measurements of the different parts are
set down so clearly and so exactly that a
ground-plan can without much difficulty be
constructed fi-om them ; minute details of work-

152 Cambridge.

men and their wages are carefully entered into ;
ample funds are provided out of the revenues
of the Duchy of Lancaster and vested in the
hands of trustees; future contingencies are
guarded against by every precaution that legal
ingenuity could invent ; and, lastly, in a strain
of earnest eloquence, that becomes almost tragic
when we consider the fate that befell the
writer and his works within a few years, he
exhorts those to whom these trusts are com-
mitted to discharge them in all points faithfully.
We will describe briefly the design for
King's, premising that that for Eton bears a
general resemblance to it, sufficiently close to
prove that both were derived from a common
original — Wykeham's College at Winchester.
The design for Eton being executed more
immediately under the King's own supervision,
was constantly altered, and, had it ever been
completed, would probably have resulted in
something very different from what we find
described in the Will. That for King's, on
the contrary, so far as it was carried out, is
exactly what we find described therein, except
in some minute particulars, which may be
neglected in a general description. The chapel,
288 feet long by 40 feet broad, was to form
the north side of the quadrangle, of which the

IS

Kings College. 155

east and west sides were to " close vnto bothe
endes of the chirche" — that is, were to abut
against the chapel, which would, therefore,
have been an integral part of the quadrangle,
instead of standing apart, as it now does, like
a model on a board. This quadrangle would
have measured 238 feet from east to west, by
230 feet from north .to south. The gate of
entrance would have been in the same position
as at present, in the middle of the east side ;
that side and the south side would have been
occupied by chambers ; the west side by a
lecture-room, with a library over it, and by the
buttery and hall. The Provost's lodge would
have been at the intersection of the west and
south sides. The Provost's offices and the
college kitchen were behind the hall. At the
west end of the chapel — separated from it in
all probability by an interval such as exists at
New College, Oxford, and as was directed in
the Will for Eton, *^for to sette in certain
trees and floures behoueful and conuenient for
the service of the chirche " — there was to be
a burial-ground, measuring 175 feet from north
to south, by 200 feet from east to west. It
was to be surrounded by a cloister, and in the
middle of the west side there was to be a
belfry, 1 20 feet high to the corbel-table, with

156 Cambridge.

four angle-turrets, crowned with pinnacles.
Access to the grounds beyond the river was
provided by a bridge, in the centre of the
western side of the site ; and all the circuit
of the college was to be defended by a high
wall, with towers at intervals. The approach
to the bridge was also to be guarded by a
tower; there was to be a second gateway in the
wall next the street, crowned with turrets ; a
tower was to give access to the hall ; and there
were to be staircase-towers in the inside of the
court. Thus the four turrets of the chapel,
which have often been criticised for their exact
uniformity, would only have been a portion
of a forest of spires, small and great, rising
above the roofs ; and they were all so arranged
that, when viewed from a distance, they would
not have interfered with one another, but each
would have had its own proper and befitting
position. At the conclusion of the Will the
King names fourteen persons, into whose charge
he commits the various trusts before rehearsed.
They were the Bishops of Winchester and St.
Asaph, the Earls of Devon, Salisbury,
Northumberland, and Shrewsbury, the Lord
Clifford, the Lord Wells, and the Provosts
of Eton and King's, with others of less note.
Of these the first-named, William Waynflete,

King^s College. 157

whom Henry had promoted from the Master-
ship of Winchester to be first Head Master,
then Provost, of Eton, was the one whom he
evidently regarded as a personal friend, whom
he could trust implicity to carry out his wishes.
He thus commits the supreme direction of the
whole scheme to him :

"Furthermore, for the final perfourmyingof my seid wil to
be put effectuelly in execucion, I, considerying the grete
discrecion of the seide worshepful fader in god William
nowe Bisshop of Wynchestre, his high trought and feruent
zele which at alle tymes he hath hadde and hath vnto my
weel, And whiche I haue founde and proued in hym, and
for the grete and hool confidence whiche I haue vnto hym
for thoo causes wol that he not oonly as Surueour, but
also as executor and director of my seid wil, be priuee
vnto alle and euery execucion of the perfourmyng of my
same wil, and that his consente in any wise be hadde
therto."

Finally, he appeals to his trustees generally by
the most solemn of all considerations :

"And that this my seid wil in euery poynt before
reherced may the more effectually be executed .1. not
oonly pray and desire but also exorte in Crist require and
charge alle and euery of my seid fefFees myn Executours
and Surueour or Surueours in the vertue of the aspercion
of Christes blessed blode and of his peyneful passion that
they hauyng god and myne entent oonly before their eyen,
not lettyng for drede or fauour of any persoune lyuing of
what estat degree or condicion that he be truly feithfully

158 Cambridge.

and diligently execute my same wil, and euery part thereof,
as they wol answere before the blessed and dredeful visage
of our Lord Jhesu in his most fereful and last dome, when
euery man shal most streitly be examined and demed after
his demeritees.

" And furthermore, for the more sure accomplisshement
of this my said wil I in the most entier and most feruent
wise pray my said heirs and successours, and euery of theym,
that they shewe them self wel-willyng feithful and tender
lovers of my desire in this behalf; And in the bowelles
of Christ our alder iuste and streit Juge, exorte theym to
remember the terrible comminations and full fearful
imprecations of holy scripture agayns the brekers of the
lawe of god, and the letters of goode and holy werkes, the
which imprecations Holy Scripture reherseth in the booke
of Deuteronomy, saying, ' If thou wilt not hearken unto
the voice of the Lord thy God^ all these curses shall come
upon thee and overta\e thee : cursed shalt thou be in the city^
and cursed shalt thou be in the field: cursed shalt thou be
when thou comest in^ and cursed shalt thou be when thou goest out.
The Lord shall send upon thee cursing^ vexation^ and rebu\e^ in
all that thou settest thine hand unto for to do, until thou be
destroyed^ and until thou perish quickly, because of the wickedness
of thy doings whereby thou hast forsaken me^^

As is generally the case with medieval build-
ings, the designer of this elaborate piece of
collegiate architecture is unknown. In the case
of Eton, even tradition is silent ; in the case of
King's, it names Nicholas Close, one of the
original Fellows, who received a grant of arms
from the King for the pains he had taken in
promoting the royal buildings, and who was

King's College. 159

certainly overseer of the works at their com-
mencement. There is, however, no proof that
he furnished the design. One point alone
seems certain, namely, that both colleges were
undoubtedly planned by the same person ; and,
considering how anxiously the King himself
watched over the progress of Eton, changing the
design repeatedly, and noting in his own hand
the altered dimensions that he wished to
introduce, it is surely not unnatural to suppose
that he may himself have planned the whole
scheme, for the realisation of which he displayed
an anxiety more keen than he is likely to have
felt for any plan devised by the ingenuity of
others. In the arrangement of details, however,
he was doubtless assisted. At Eton we find
that his friend, the Marquis of Suffolk, not
only supervised the expenditure, but was con-
sulted from time to time on points referred to
him by the clerk of the works, among others
on the design of the hall. Waynflete again,
who, from the terms in which he is spoken of
in the Will, unquestionably enjoyed his entire
confidence, may well have had something to do
with originating the whole scheme. He was a
practical architect, as we see from his own
foundation, Magdalene College, Oxford ; and
his connection with Winchester may account for

1 60 Cambridge.

the general resemblance already noticed between
the design of Henry the Sixth and that of
Wykeham.

There is good reason for believing that the first
stone of the chapel was laid by King Henry in
person, after which it proceeded slowly and halt-
ingly, for the disasters that befell prevented the
regular payment of the money assigned for the
works even from the first, down to his deposition.
The beautiful white magnesian limestone which
marks the limit of the work done in his reign, is
another proof of the close connection that he
wished to maintain between King's and Eton.
It was obtained from a quarry at Hudleston,
near Sherburne, in Yorkshire, which he had
acquired from the owner, Henry Vavasour, for
the joint use of the two foundations. The stone
was quarried at their joint expense, and then
divided between them. There is evidence, that
for the last two years or more before King
Henry's deposition the works must have been
almost, if not quite, stopped ; and in 1460 money
was actually sent from Cambridge to him at
Northampton, just a week before the disastrous
battle at which he was taken prisoner. The
inmates of the college must have been profoundly
discouraged ; their anxiety is shown, more elo-
quently than by mere words, by the numerous

King's College, i6i

payments to servants sent to London, to New-
market, to Royston, to Barkway, to obtain intelli-
gence (^pro novis audiendis). Anything was better
than the state of wretched uncertainty they were
in. At last, when the news of his death came, it
is said that the workmen, who were sawing a
block of limestone, threw down their tools, believ-
ing that the works were at end, and left it half
sawn in two. The story may have been invented
afterwards to account for the presence of the
stone, which lay upon the college green until
1724, when it was used as the foundation-stone
of the Fellows' Building ; but it was certainly
believed at that time, for it is alluded to in the
inscription then engraved upon it. After this
catastrophe, though the works did not cease
entirely, as is commonly supposed, they made
but little progress until near the end of the reign
of Edward the Fourth, who was then moved to
give one thousand marks, probably through the
intercession of the Provost, Walter Field, who
had been one of his chaplains. The sum obtained,
however, was too small to accomplish much ; nor
could the ;^700 which Richard the Third con-
tributed have effected much more. After his
death the building ceased entirely for twenty-four
years, a break in the work with which the first
period of the construction of the chapel ends.

12

VII.

Kin^s College {continued).

A FEW months before the close of his life,
King Henry the Seventh determined to
complete the building with which the name of
his uncle was so intimately associated. It had
been accepted, as we have seen, even by Edward
the Fourth and Richard the Third, as a royal
possession which the kings of England were
bound to finish. If they had been interested in
it, much more ought he to be so, of whom Henry
of Lancaster had foretold that he would be his
successor, a tradition which Shakespeare has thus
commemorated :

«c

King Henry, — My Lord of Somerset, what youth is that

Of whom you seem to have so tender care ?
Somerset, — My liege, it is young Henry, Earl of Rich-
mond.
King Henry, — Come hither, England's hope. [^Lays his hand

on his head,^

If secret powers
Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts,

'

King's College. 163

This pretty lad will prove our country's bliss.
His looks are full of peaceful majesty,
His head by nature framed to wear a crown,
His hand to wield a sceptre, and himself
Likely in time to bless a regal throne.
Make much of him, my lords, for this is he
Must help you more than you are hurt by me.'*

Henry Tudor " loved to accumulate treasure,"
says his biographer ; but to do honour to his
departed uncle, whose crown he had inherited, he
was prepared to lay aside his accustomed penu-
riousness. Policy, as well as superstition, probably
influenced him in this. Popular feeling through-
out England had come to believe that " Henry's
holy shade " was working miracles. Pilgrims had
crowded to the grave at Chertsey, where his corpse
had first been laid before its removal to Windsor ;
and his image on the rood-screen at York had
become an object of passionate adoration. A
formal recognition of his saintly merits by a regular
canonisation had once been seriously meditated.
It was to be accompanied by a removal in state of
his remains fi-om Windsor to Westminster, there
to be deposited in the new chapel. The Pope had
agreed to perform his part in the ceremony ; but
at the last moment it was abandoned, as Holinshed
would have us believe, on account of the great
cost it would have entailed : " so the king left oflF
his suite in that behalfe, thinking better to save

1 64 Cambridge,

his monie than to purchase a new holidaie of St.
Henri with so great a price." But when he
found himself stricken with a mortal disease,
which no sacrifice of his ill-gotten wealth could
cure, he began to think whether another and a
better use could not be made of it. That such
was the temper of his mind is evident from his
Will, in which an extravagance of devotion and
almsgiving takes precedence of all other pro-
visions. After brief directions for his sepulture
and his tomb, he directs that " forthwith and im-
mediately after our decesse " ten thousand masses
shall be said at Westminster and in London " for
the remission of oure synnes, and the weale of
our Soule ; " two thousand pounds are to be dis-
tributed in alms " betwix the houre of oure
decesse, and th' ende of the daie of our Sepul-
ture ; " all debts are to be paid, and all wrongs
redressed; the revenue of certain lands, to the
value of one hundred marks, is to be expended in
yearly and weekly obits, with tapers, torches, and
lights, burning "continuelly and perpetuelly, while
the world shall endure, about our Towmbe ; "
hospitals are to be founded, '^for as much as we
inwardly consideir, that the seven workes of
Charitie and Mercy bee most profitable, due, and
necessarie, for the salvacion of man's soule ; "
largess is to be given to cathedral chapters and

King's College. 165

religious houses ; the works at Westminster and
elsewhere are to be completed ; images of the
King are to be set up on the shrines of the Con-
fessor and of St. Thomas of Canterbury ; and
lastly, King Henry the Sixth is to be royally
honoured and commemorated, " for the singular
trust that we haue to the praires of our said
Uncle." Eton had been completed already by
the pious care of Waynflete ; it remained for him
to complete the sister college at Cambridge, " that
thereby shuld not be onely a notable acte and a
meritorious werke perfited, which else were like
to grow to desolacion and never to have ben done
and accomplisshed, but also diuine seruice there
hereafter be mayntened and supported to thonour
and laude of Almighty God, thencrese of cunnyng
and doctrine of his laws in edifyng and encrese of
our faithe." Moreover, King Henry the Seventh
had had ample opportunities of seeing with his
own eyes the sad condition of the chapel, for in
the course of his reign he had visited Cambridge
five times. The last occasion was on the eve of
St. George's Day, April 22, 1506, on his way to
the shrine of Our Lady at Walsingham. He was
received with all the quaint solemnities usual at
that period, the University and the religious
orders attending him to Queens' College, where
he stayed. Having rested awhile, he " did on his

1 66 Cambridge.

Gowne and Mantell of the Gartier," and, accom-
panied by the Knights of the Order, proceeded to
King's College Chapel, which had been decorated
for the occasion with paper scutcheons of the
knights' companions arms. There he kept the
eve of the festival, and the festival itself, with the
usual ceremonies. This chapel must have been
the old chapel, which stood between the present
one and the Old Court ; but, as he proceeded to
it from Queens' College, he must have passed so
close to the unfinished chapel, that he could not
fail to be struck by its incompleteness. At that
time the east end alone had been roofed in, while
the whole ante-chapel was probably a grass-grown
enclosure, with walls not more than eight feet
high.

The Will was signed 31 March, 1509; but
work had been resumed in May, 1508, with a
staff of at least 140 workmen of different trades,
paid for by the King ; and a week before the Will
was signed he had conveyed to the college ^5,000,
with directions to his executors to supply such
further sums *'as shall suffice for the perfite
finisshing and perfourminge of the same werkes."
In consequence they contributed a second sum of
^5,000 in 1 5 1 2. The first of these two sums was
probably expended in finishing the walls ; the
second in constructing the great vault, a glorious

King's College. 167

specimen of the fan-vaulting then in fashion, and
in raising the battlements and pinnacles. The
stonework was probably finished by July, 15 15.
Much, however, still remained to be done ; and
the college humbly solicited Henry VIII. to glaze
the windows — ^the scheme for which, there is
reason to believe, had been already sanctioned by
his father — and to furnish stalls and pavement.
Ten years elapsed before he found time (or money)
to undertake so important a task, and it was not
until 1526 that contracts i for the windows were
signed. These documents prove that these splendid
pictures in glass were all executed by Englishmen
except four, the patterns for which were to be
given by the Englishmen to Flemings resident in
England. They had been begun by Barnard
Flower, the King's glazier, about 15 15, but he
dying before he had finished more than four
windows, and possibly the armorial bearings in the
tracery, the rest were entrusted to Gal yon Hoone,
Richard Bownde, Thomas Reve, James Nicholson
(Englishmen) ; Francis Williamson, and Symon
Symondes (Flemings) ; all described simply as
"glasyers," resident in London or Southwark.
The designs were to be approved by three persons
selected by the College : Dr. Robert Hacomblen,
the Provost, William Holgylle, Master of the
Savoy, and Thomas Larke, Archdeacon of Nor-

1 68 Cambridge.

wich. It was covenanted that the entire work
should be finished by May, 1531. The west
window was included in one of the contracts ; but
there is not the slightest fi-agment of evidence that
it was ever executed. It is often alluded to in the
accounts, and repairs to it are often necessary.
They are, however, always executed in white
glass. Again, it is almost impossible to suppose
that so large a surface of coloured glass, had it
ever been painted, could have perished completely.
Some fragments of it would have remained, either
in the tracery or in some other part of the chapel.
It has been suggested sometimes that in the four
windows next to it, on the north and south sides,
which are now in a sad state of ruin and confusion,
we have the displaced glass of the west window.
This hypothesis is wholly inadmissible. Those
windows form part of the regular series ; and
their present condition is due, in some degree, to
defective painting originally, but far more to the
fact that they have been mended by ignorant per-
sons, who have put the. component pieces together
inaccurately.

As these windows are the most important speci-
mens of English glass-painting that have been
preserved, a brief notice of the arrangement and
treatment of the subjects depicted in them must
now be given. No precise distribution of the

King's College. 169

subjects is mentioned in the contracts. It is
merely agreed that the windows are to be filled
"with good, clene, sure, and perfyte glasse and
Oryent Colours and Imagery of the Story of the
olde lawe and the newe lawe after the fourme,
maner, goodeness, curyousytie, and clenelynes in
euery poynt of the glasse wyndowes of the kynges
newe Chapell at Westmynster ; And also accord-
yngly and after such maner as oon Barnard Flower
glasyer late deceessed by indenture stode bounde to
doo." They were, therefore, to be, in some degree,
a reproduction of the windows in Henry the
Seventh's Chapel at Westminster ; and, also, a con-
tinuation of the series commenced fifteen years
before by Barnard Flower, and interrupted by his
death. Unfortunately, the contract made with
Flower is lost, and the windows at Westminster
have been destroyed, so that we are without infor-
mation as to the two series that were to be fol-
lowed.

Of the twenty-six windows, twenty-five are
filled with ancient glass, of which the east window,
as usual, contains the Crucifixion. In the remainder
*' the story of the olde and newe lawe " is depicted
in the following manner. Each window contains
five lights, divided by a transom. The central
light contains four figures, called " Messengers " —
two above and two below the transom — ^who carry

170 Cambridge,

scrolls or tablets, or some device on which a text
may be inscribed, descriptive of the pictures in the
lights to the right and left of them. There are
four pictures to each window. Those in the lower
tier exhibit, with one or two exceptions, scenes
taken out of the New Testament. They proceed
in regular sequence, commencing at the north-west
corner with the Birth of the Virgin. This and the
window next to it are occupied with her legendary
history ; the third window contains the Annuncia-
tion and the Nativity ; the fourth the Circumcision
and the Adoration of the Magi ; the fifth the Puri-
fication and the Flight into Egypt ; the sixth the
Idols of Egypt falling down before the Infant Jesus
and the Massacre of the Innocents ; the seventh and
following windows the principal events in the life
of Christ before the Crucifixion. On the south side at
the east end we find the Entombment^ the Resurrec-
tion^ and the other events recorded in the Gospels,
ending with the Ascension and the Descent of the
Holy Spirit in the sixth window. These are
succeeded by the principal scenes in the lives of St.
John, St. Peter, and St. Paul, as recorded in the
Acts of the Apostles. In the last two windows
the series resumes the legendary history of the
Virgin, and ends with her Assumption and Corona-
tion. The upper series consists of pictures out of
the Old Testament, the Apocrypha, or legendary

King's College. 171

history, selected on account of their supposed
parallelism with those of the former series ; but
occasionally this system is interrupted, and the
upper lights continue the story exhibited in the
lower, as in the history of the Virgin, and the
scenes from the Acts of the Apostles.

A bare enumeration of the subjects, however,
can give but a poor idea of these glorious paint-
ings. What first arrests the attention is the
singularly happy blending of colours, produced by
a most ingenious juxtaposition of pure tints. The
half-tones, so dear to the present generation, were
fortunately unknown in the days when they were
set up. Thus, though there is a profusion
of brilliant scarlet, and light blue, and golden
yellow, there is no gaudiness. Again, all the glass
admits light, without let or hindrance, the shading
being laid on with sparing hand, so that the greatest
amount of brilliancy is insured. This is fiirther
enhanced by a very copious use of white, or
slightly yellow, glass. It must not, however, be
supposed that a grand effect of colour is all that
has been aimed at. The pictures bear a close
study as works of art. The figures are rather
larger than life, and boldly drawn, so as to be well
seen from a great distance ; but the faces are full
of expression and individuality, and each scene
is beautiful as a composition. They would well

172 Cambridge.

bear reduction within the narrow limits of an easel
picture. As examples of special excellence may be
cited, the Manna in the Wilderness^ where the
woman, seated with her starving child in her lap,
offers a wonderful picture of despair ; the Entry
into Jerusalem ; the Maries at the Tomb of Christ ;
the Descent into Hell; and the Resurrection.
Again, what richness of imagination is shown in
the forms of angels and demons ! How beautiful
are the rosy plumes of the angel that witnesses the
Baptism of Christ ; how weird and fantastic is the
demon that mocks at the sufferings of Job, or the
doomed spirit that glares at the Saviour, who has
broken into his domain, and is standing on the
gates of Hell !

Careful examination shows that these paintings
bear evidence of execution by various hands, as
might indeed be expected from the number of
persons who were parties to the contracts. More-
over, they are of unequal merit, not merely in
execution, but in design. It is evident, therefore,
that, subject to the observance of a certain
sequence, the treatment of a particular scene was
left to the *^ glaziers " who executed it. This at
once destroys the tradition that the designs were
furnished by Albert Diirer or Hans Holbein.
There is no doubt that a German or Flemish
influence is discernible in some of the sub-

King's College. 173

jects ; but that is no more than might be
expected, when we consider the number of sets of
pictures illustrating the Life and Passion of Christ
that had appeared in Germany and Flanders
during the half-century preceding their execution.
These, of which one of the best known is the
** Mirror of Human Salvation " (^Speculum humana
Salvattonis)^ usually contained illustrations of the
life of Christ, accompanied by scenes out of the
Old Testament, and not unfrequently preceded,
as here, by the legendary life of the Virgin.
Again, a resemblance has been observed between
some of them and the treatment of the same
subject by Raphael, and he has been named as the
designer. Italian influence, however, had already
been felt in Flanders, and may not improbably
have affected England also ; for, considering the
frequent intercourse between England and Rome,
it would have been strange if the great and sudden
impulse given to religious art by the painter
whom the Pope had selected for the decoration of
the Vatican, > had been without its effects on English
art also.

The value of these designs, and of those of a
smaller and far inferior series at Fairford, in
Gloucestershire, as indications of English art, has
been frequently recognised. Horace Walpole
held that " the artists who executed them (the

1 74 Cambridge.

windows- at King's College) would figure as
considerable painters in any reign ; " and Vandyke
" often affirmed to Charles I. that many of the
figures in the Fairford windows were so exquisitely
done that they could be exceeded by no pencil."
Again, in answer to the frequent observations that
they cannot be of English work because artists
so distinguished would certainly have produced
other works of equal merit, it may be urged that
the art of the Middle Ages and early Renaissance
was devoted almost exclusively to the decoration
of churches, and was expended upon two most
perishable materials, — glass and plaster ; and that
at the Reformation first, and during the Civil War
afterwards, it was one of the chief objects of the
Puritans to sweep the whole of that art away.
Relics of it are occasionally found that testify to
the extent and the excellence of it. When the
frescoes executed at Eton in Edward the Fourth's
reign were discovered in 1 847 Mr. Street " had
no hesitation in saying that these paintings are the
finest which have yet been discovered in England ;
more artistic, and as full of religious feeling as any,
and most interesting as having most probably been
executed by Florentine artists, who, for aught we
know, may have been the pupils of the Beato
Angelico, or his friends ; as they were the con-
temporaries of Francia, of Perugino, and of

King's College. 175

Ghirlandaio." It now turns out, however, that
they were the work of a man with the plainest of
plain English names — William Baker. Again, as
regards glass, the whole series of windows at
Westminster, from which those at King's were
copied, has perished; the windows of Great St.
Mary's, in Cambridge, by Nicholson, and those
of St. Mary Overey, in Southwark, by Galyon
Hoone, both glaziers employed here, have equally
disappeared. There is hardly any cathedral, or in-
deed any large church, which has not the same story
of devastation to tell. That these windows them-
selves should have been saved is a marvel ; and
how it came to pass is not now exactly known.
The story that they were taken out and hidden, or
as one version of it says, buried, may be dismissed
as an idle fabrication. More likely the Puritan
sentiments of the then Provost, Dr. Whichcote,
were regarded with such favour by the Earl of
Manchester during his occupation of Cambridge,
that he interfered to save the chapel and the
college from molestation. For there is ample
evidence in the account-books to prove that the
Society was not in any way interfered with ; and
though soldiers were quartered in the college, they
do not appear to have committed any damage
other than the most trivial. The detriment that
the glass has suffered is due to ignorant glaziers

176 Cambridge.

by whom it was repaired on may occasions during
the last century ; and so frequent and so thorough
have been those repairs, that it is a wonder, not
that the damage is so great, but that anything has
been preserved. The series, left unfinished, as we
have shown, was worthily completed in 1879. ^^
that year the west window was filled with a noble
representation of the Last Judgment, executed by
Messrs. Clayton and Bell, and given by Francis
Edmund Stacey, formerly Fellow.

The windows having been completed, the
wood-work was undertaken.. The organ-screen,
or, as it was called down to the middle of the
seventeenth century, the " rood-loft," and the
stalls, but without the canopies, were set up
between 1531 and 1535, as is proved by the occur-
rence of the initials of Anne Boleyn, entwined with
those of the king, in many places upon them.
The chapel was probably first used for service in
1536, just ninety years after the first stone had
been laid.

Many changes had been introduced into the
fabric during that long period; the simple
massiveness of the Founder's work, which he
desired should "procede in large fourme, clene
and substantial, laying a parte superfluite of to
grete curious werkes of entaille and besy
molding,'* is in strong contrast with the ob-

King's College,

177

trusive heraldry that marks the portion constructed
by Henry the Seventh and his executors. There,
and in the glass above, his right to the crown, and
the victory by which he won it, are again and
again commemorated, with a frequency of repeti-
tion that seems to betray the consciousness of
usurpation. The dragon of Cadwallader, '^the
dragon of the great Pendragonship," and the
greyhound of Cecilia Neville, wife of Richard,
Duke of York, support the arms of England in
each *^ severy " of the ante-chapel ; the rose and
the portcullis (his " altera securitas^' as he termed
it, intimating that as the portcullis was the second
defence of a fortress when the gate was broken
down, so he had a second claim to the crown
through his mother, daughter of John de Beaufort,
whose castle in Anjou was typified by this emblem
of it) cling to the vaulting-shafts ; the antelopes
of the Founder are associated indeed with his own
magnificence, but only upon the external but-
tresses ; while the red rose of Lancaster, the
hawthorn bush, and the crown (alluding to the
legend of the recovery of it on Bosworth Field),
are profusely displayed in the tracery of the
windows. In his son's work again the influence
of those foreign workmen who were so largely
introduced into England in that century, becomes
apparent. The delicate arabesques in low relief,

13

178 Cambridge.

and the classic moldings of the screen, with the
curious absence of all religious symbols in the
profuse decoration that covers every part of it,
are Italian rather than English. Unfortunately
all record of its construction has been lost ; and
it is only from internal evidence that we can
guess at the history of what it is no exaggeration
to say is the most beautiful piece of wood-work
out of Italy. For some now unknown and much-
to-be-regretted cause, the canopies of the stalls
were not completed at the same time. It is
supposed that the walls were hung with tapestry
until Thomas Weaver gave the somewhat clumsy
series of shields ot arms, with the pilasters that
separate them, in 1633. The present canopies
were made in 1678, and the panel-work beyond
them in 1679, ^7 ^ Cambridge wood-carver,
Cornelius Austin. The canopies are poor imita-
tions of the older work, but the panels are excel-
lent specimens of that period, and the artist who
executed them deserves to be rescued from
oblivion. The present reredos was put up by
**the ingenious Mr. Essex,'* at the end of the
last century (1770-75). It is an attempt to
imitate Gothic work, meritorious in intention
rather than successful.

This is, however; the only serious deformity in
the chapel. It seems as though the respect in

King's College. 179

which the Founder was held protected his works,
and those erected in his name by his successors.
No brush-of paint has marred the beauty of the
screen ; and ^^Ytn Puritan fanaticism spared the
windows. The chapel is still, within and without,
the noblest structure ever raised for collegiate
worship. Well might Wordsworth exclaim :

" Tax not the royal saint with vain expense,
With ill-matched aims the Architect who planned.
Albeit labouring for a scanty band
Of white-robed Scholars only — this immense
And glorious work of fine intelligence !
Give all thou canst ; high Heaven rejects the lore
Of nicely-calculated less or more ;
So deemed the man who fashioned for the sense
These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof.
Self-poised, and scooped into ten thousand cells,
Where light and shade repose, where music dwells
Lingering — and wandering on as loth to die ;
Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof
That they were born for immortality."

No part of the Founder's design except the
chapel was executed ; none, indeed, was begun
except a portion of the eastern range of chambers.
When Gibbs was employed in 1724, he designed
a noble quadrangle in the classical style then in
fashion, of which, however, the west side alone
was built ; and when the college was again enabled
to resume the completion of the buildings in the

1 8 o Cambridge.

present century, they unfortunately were induced

to employ Wilkins. That self-sufficient and

ignorant architect, though he affected to build in

a style which he dignified by the name of Gothic,

discarded the Founder's plan, obliterated the

toothings which then remained at the south-east

corner of the chapel, and built towards the street

a screen of open work, with a gate of entrance in

the centre, consisting of a crowd of tall and

meaningless pinnacles clustered round a central

mass. It used to be appropriately nicknamed

** The decanter and wine-glasses." Yet, so strange

are the fluctuations in popular opinion, that when

a short time since it was proposed to pull it down,

and erect an appropriate building on its site, a

great cry arose in its favour. It was all at once

forgotten that by its erection the last hope had

been lost of seeing the chapel as the Founder

meant it should be seen, and that in itself it was

mongrel and absurd. The epithets " gracious,'*

" beautiful," and many another laudatory term,

were applied to it. The proposal was whirled

away in a tempest of indignation, and the screen

remains for the present, though let us hope not

for ever, to inform one more generation at least

how devoid of real architectural taste was the first

quarter of the nineteenth century. Opposite to

the chapel Wilkins erected a hall, with a pre-

King^s College. l8l

tentious roof of plaster-work, an oriel in the
middle, and the meaningless peculiarity of two
lanterns, though, in justice to him, it should be
mentioned that this last and crowning absurdity
was forced upon him by the architects Nash and
Wyatt, iwhom the College consulted, and com-
pelled Wilkins to follow. Into the original use of
these contrivances they did not care to inquire.
Moreover, though any building at King's College
must to a certain extent commemorate the Founder,
Wilkins covered his work with emblems that
commemorate only the Tudors, roses and port-
cullises ! Lastly, he actually persuaded the Col-
lege to allow him to " gothicize " Gibbs' beautiful
work, for which remarkable achievement his design
is extant, but lack of funds fortunately prevented
such a disaster.

No account of King's College would be com-
plete without some narrative of the famous enter-
tainment of Queen Elizabeth there, from Saturday,
August 5th, to Thursday, August loth, 1564.
The preparations for her visit had been long and
costly, for even in the previous year the account
for the expenses of the chapel is mainly filled
with the items of expenditure for putting up the
wooden theatre on which a play was to be re-
presented before her. She herself resided in the
Provost's Lodge, which then stood between the

1 8 2 Cambridge.

east end of the chapel and the street ; some of
her ladies were lodged in the jf ellows' chambers,
and her maids of honour at Caius College. Tem-
porary kitchens were set up against the wall that
divided the College from St. Austin's hostel,
which stood nearly where the present Hall does.
The south vestry of the chapel became her
Council Chamber, the lower hall of the *' Pro-
vost's Place," as the lodge was termed, her
Guard Chamber, and the room above it the
Presence Chamber. The great officers of state
were distributed among the other colleges. The
whole University was present to attend her, but
it is difficult to understand where they could have
been themselves accommodated, so vast were the
numbers of her retinue.

There are several accounts of her visit, which
enter minutely into the tedious ceremonies in
which she apparently found pleasure. The fol-
lowing description of what occurred is extracted
from Baker's " History of St. John's College" :

" The queen made her entrance on the 5th of August, by-
Queens' College, where a large gate was hung cross the
street from that college to the opposite house (now the
printing-house), guarded by the queen's servants ; the two
lanes near King's College were likewise barred up and
guarded to keep out the crowd. All the passage from
Queens' College to the west end of King's College chapel was
lined with scholars ; the doctors stood nearest the chapel.

King's College. 183

the Vice-Chancellor, with the senior doctor and orator, upon
the lowest step. Within the chapel (the inner part whereof
was hung with tapestry and arras of the queen's) were the
provost with his fellows in their copes, making a lane where
she was to pass towards the choir.

" Her majesty entered the town on horseback in a gown
of black velvet pinked, a caul upon her head set with pearls
and precious stones, with a hat spangled with gold and a
bush of feathers, attended by Garter King-at-Arms with the
other great officers of the crown, with other lords and ladies
very numerous, the Chancellor riding near her, describing
the order and degree and quality of the scholars ; and as she
passed the scholars loudly proclaimed Fivat Reginay to which
she often replied Gratias ago,

"As soon as she came to the west end of the chapel, every
one alighted from their horses except the queen, and there
the Chancellor delivered up the staves, and the public orator,
Mr. Master, kneeling down, made an oration, wherein, whilst
he enlarged upon her majesty's praises, she often shook her
head and bit her lips, and sometimes broke out in these
expressions, non est Veritas and utinam ; but when he praised
virginity, she commended the orator and bid him continue
there. In conclusion, she gave him a just encomium, par-
ticularly admiring his memory, as he well deserved that
could go on half an hour without pause or hesitating, wJiilst
the queen's horse was curvetting under her, and she herself
making remarks upon the different periods of his speech.
Then she alighted and advanced towards the chapel under
a rich canopy supported by four of the principal doctors,
when, after Te Deum begun by the provost and sung with
the organ, and after evening song solemnly had, etc., she
departed to her lodging, as she went thanking God that had
sent her to this University, where she was so received as she
thought she could not be better.

" The next day being Sunday, Dr. Perne in his cope

•I J

^

J . "».

184 Cambridge.

preached a Latin sermon before her majesty in King's chapel
upon this text, Omnis anima subdita' sit, etc. About the
midst of his sermon she sent the lord Hunsden to will him
to put on his cap, which he did unto the end ; and after the
sermon was over, ere he could get out of the pulpit, she
signified to him by the Lord Chamberlain, that it was the
first that ever she heard in Latin ^ and she thought she never
should hear a better,

" In the evening she heard prayers again in the chapel ;
and this day had been well spent, had not the conclusion
been very different from the rest of the day. For the same
day late and in the same place one of Plautus' comedies (his
Aulularia) was acted before her by torches upon a stage
erected in the chapel to that purpose, which she stayed out,
though it held in acting till twelve o'clock at night.

" It would be very tedious to give a narrative of the pro-
ceedings of the following days, and of the several acts and
disputations held before her majesty. It was philosophy and
divinity that she attended to most, and was best pleased with
these performances. Mr. Bing the respondent in philosophy,
acquitted himself well ; and it was then observed that as Mr.
Cartwright, one of his opponents, expressed more heat, so
Mr. Preston showed better manners, whom the queen took
particular notice of and dubbed him her scholar. But no
man acquitted himself so well as Mr. Hutton, the respondent
in divinity, to the satisfaction and admiration of all his
auditors ; and it was to that day that he owed his future
preferments. The queen favoured him in her looks, her
words, and actions ; and though Dr. Feme, one of his
opponents, disputed upon him very warmly and very
learnedly, yet he, that had given such content whilst he
preached upon Omnis anima, etc., lost himself in the opinion
of the queen for having touched too freely upon the power
of excommunicating princes, though it were only by way of
argument : so nice a thing it is to approach majesty upon

L 4.

King's College. 185

any pretence or at any distance, especially where majesty is
at its full height, as it 'then was !

" For, however it may have been since, it was then in this
manner her majesty was received in our congregations or
assemblies. At her entrance all men were upon the knee,
nor did any one presume to rise till leave was given ; and
after they were up, no one presumed to sit till leave was
given the second time by an express allowance. The
greatest peer, the Duke of Norfolk, and the greatest
favourite, Robert Dudley, addressed her majesty upon the
knee, as they then did, when they desired her to dismiss the
University with an oration."

The accounts printed by Nichols, in his " Pro-
gresses of Queen Elizabeth," contain a few details
that are worth quoting, in addition to Baker's
more succinct version of what took place. When
the public orator praised virginity, she, who prided
herself on being the Semper Eadem^ exclaimed,
" God's blessing of thyne heart ; there continue/'
Again, at the conclusion of the disputations in
Great Saint Mary's Church, she made a Latin
oration, in which she distinctly promised to
emulate the example of those princes, her ances-
tors, the monuments of whose piety she had been
beholding :

"My age," she said, "is not yet so far advanced; nor
again is it so long since I began to reign, but that before I
pay my last debt to nature (if cruel Atropos do not too soon
cut the thread of my life), I may erect some passing good
work. And from this design, so long as I have any life left,

1 86 Cambriage.

I shall never depart. And if it should happen that I must
die before I can complete this thing ; yet will I leave some
famous monument behind me, whereby both my memory
shall be renowned ; and I, by my example, may excite others
to the like worthy actions ; and also make you all more
ready to pursue your studies."

When she spoke, pleased with the reception she
had had, which she candidly admitted was " alto-
gether against her expectation," she no doubt
sincerely intended to found a new college, or
further to endow an existing one. The University,
however, heard no more of the royal benefactions.

The stage, for the dramatic entertainment, was
built right across the ante- chapel, at the west end,
occupying " the breadth of the church from the
one side to the other, that the chappels might
serve for houses," that is, for dressing-rooms for
the performers. In depth it was equal to the
breadth of two chapels. The Queen sat on the
south side, where " was hanged a cloth of state."
The ladies and gentlewomen of the court stood on
the rood-loft, or, as we call it, the organ-screen ;
and the " choyce officers of the Court " on the
steps under the same. The guard stood on the
ground by the stage side, each man holding " in
his hand a torch-stafF, for the lights of the play.'*
The performers were " certain selected persons,
chosen out of all colleges of the town, at the
discretion of Mr. Roger Kelke, D.D."

VIII.

Sf. Johfis College. Christ's College.

THE position of the Hospital of St. John the
Evangelist has been already described. Into
the history of that foundation it would be beside
our present purpose to enter. It will be sufficient
to mention here that towards the end of the
fifteenth century it began to fall into decay, both
moral and material. The accusations that were
brought against so many religious houses at that
time were preferred against the brethren. Mr.
Thomas Baker, the historian of St. John's College,
tells us that " they were certainly very dissolute in
their lives and prodigal in their expenses, not in
charity and hospitality which they were obliged to
by their rule and order, but in excess and riot, and
in gratifying their own sinful lusts." A disorderly
house, such as this, must have been of evil example
in the University, and its suppression was only a
question of time. About 1502, Dr. John Fisher,
Master of Michael House, who, from the proxi-
mity of his own college to the hospital, was in a

1 8 8 Cambridge.

position to know, perhaps only too well, the state
of affairs there, was made chaplain and confessor
to the Lady Margaret, Countess of Richmond and
Derby, mother of King Henry the Seventh.
From the vantage-ground of that exalted position
he set himself to compass the conversion of the
hospital into a college under the patronage ot the
Countess. He had probably no difficulty in
interesting his mistress in the scheme. She had
visited Cambridge in 1505, and again in 1506, on
which occasions, no doubt, she had opportunities
of learning by personal inspection the wants of the
University. In May of the former year she had
refounded the ancient educational establishment
called God's House by the title of Christ's College,
and endowed it, besides other possessions, with the
Abbey of St. Mary of the Meadows {de praxis), at
Creyke, in Norfolk. She had, therefore, herself
set an example of utilising, in the direction of
education, religious foundations for whose special
objects the necessity was no longer recognised.
Holding apart, as she did, by a wise abstention,
from interference in affairs of state, she found a
congenial occupation in the patronage of science
and literature. Wynkyn de Worde, one of the
most distinguished of our early printers, styled
himself " Printer unto the moost excellent pryn-
cesse my lady the kynge's moder." She had

The Lady Margaret. 191

instituted readerships in divinity in both Universi-
ties which still perpetuate her name, and here in
Cambridge she had founded a preachership as well.
Though, as has been well pointed out, '' her
outward existence belonged to the medieval past,"
and she lived almost the life of a nun of the most
ascetic order, the acuteness of her intelligence led
her to perceive that a new light had dawned upon
the horizon ; that changes were not far distant in
which any merely conventual foundations would
perish, and any collegiate institutions would as
certainly survive. In the previous century she
would have founded a religious house, and perhaps
have died as its Abbess ; in her own time she
became the foundress of educational establishments
of which we have possibly not yet seen the com-
plete development.

Her character was delineated by her devoted
friend and counsellor. Bishop Fisher, in the com-
memorative sermon preached by him after her
death, in language which is as interesting as a
specimen of the best English of the time, as for
the picture it gives of the illustrious lady whom
he knew and loved so well :

" She was bounteous and lyberal to every person of her
knowledge or acquaintance. Avarice and covetyse she most
hated, and sorowed it full moche in all persons, but especially
in ony that belonged unto her. She was also of syngular

192 Cambridge.

easyness to be spoken unto, and full curtayse answere she
would make to all that came unto her. Of mervayllous
gentyleness she was unto all folks, but specially unto her
owne, whom she trusted and loved ryghte tenderly. Un-
kynde she wolde not be unto no creature, ne forgetfull of
ony kyndness or servyce done to her before, which is no lytel
part of veray nobleness. She was not vengeable, ne cruell, but
redy anone to forgete and to forgyve injuryes done unto her,
at the leest desyre or mocyon made unto her for the same.
Mercyfull also and pyteous she was unto such as was grevyed
and wrongfully troubled, and to them that were in poverty
or sekeness or any other mysery. To God and to the
Chirche full obedient and tractable, serchynge His honour
and plesure full besyly. A wareness of her self she had
alway to eschewe every thyng, that myght dishonest ony noble
woman, or distayne her honour in ony condycyon. Fryvelous
thyngs, that were lytell to be regarded, she wold let pass by,
but the other that were of weyght and substance, wherein
she might proufyte, she wolde not let for any payne or labour,
to take upon hande.

" All Englonde for her dethe had cause of wepynge. The
poor creatures that were wonte to receyve her almes, to
whom she was always pyteous and mercyfull ; the studentes
of both the Unyversytees, to whom she was as a moder ; all
the learned men of Englonde, to whom she was a veray
patroness ; all the vertuous and devoute persones, to whom
she was as a lovynge syster ; all the good relygyous men and
women, whome she so often was wonte to vysyte and com-
forte ; all good preests and clercks, to whome she was a true
defendresse ; all the noblemen and women, to whome she was
a myrroure and exampler of honoure ; all the comyn people
of this realme, for whome she was in theyr causes a comyn
medyatryce, and toke right grete displeasure for them ; and
generally the hole realm hathe cause to complayne and to
morne her dethe."

St. John's College. 193

She died 29th of June, 1509, in the midst of the
rejoicings over her grandson's marriage and coro-
nation. She was buried in Westminster Abbey,
and Erasmus wrote her epitaph. Anxious as she
had been to see her second college well established
before her death, that gratification was not vouch-
safed to her. The legal formalities necessary for
the suppression of the Hospital were so tedious
that it was not " utterly extinguished," as Baker
calls it, till January 20, 1510 ; when it fell, as
the same historian observes, *' a lasting monument
to all future ages, and to all charitable and
religious foundations, not to neglect the rules or
abuse the institutions of their founders, lest they
fall under the same fate." The executors of the
Lady Margaret, now that she was no longer
present to lend her own powerful aid to the
undertaking, had other and more serious diffi-
culties to encounter, which need not be related
here. However, they adhered firmly to their
purpose, and were successful. The college was
begun in or about 1 5 1 1 , and the first court was
carried on, without interruption, until it was com-
pleted. The college was formally opened by
Bishop Fisher, July 29, 15 16. The position of
the court then erected was determined by one of
the buildings of the Hospital, which was altered
into a chapel for the new foundation, and formed

1 94 Cambridge.

the greater part of the north side. The west side
contained the hall, buttery, and kitchen ; the
south side a range of chambers ; and the east side
the library, with chambers beneath it. The
Master's Lodge was placed in the angle between
the north and west ranges, but a portion of it
was prolonged into the north range, where a
picturesque oriel window enabled the Master to
command the court. Unfortunately it has now
become impossible to realise the original aspect of
this quadrangle, as preserved for us by Loggan.
The south side was cased with stone in a pseudo-
Italian style by Essex in 1772 ; and between 1862
and 1869, under the direction of Sir G. G. Scott,
the hall was lengthened, the old chapel pulled
down, and a new chapel, magnificent it is true, but
singularly inappropriate both in style and design,
was erected beyond the ancient limits of the quad-
rangle. The beautiful gate of entrance, shown in
our illustration, has happily survived these changes.
It is of red brick with stone quoins. The lavish
decoration of the space between the arch and the
windows commemorates the foundress and her son.
The central shield, bearing the arms of England
and France quarterly, is supported by the ante-
lopes of Beaufort. Beneath it is a rose. To the
right is a portcullis, to the left a rose, both
crowned. Daisies, the particular emblem of the

Gate of Entrance^ St. John's College.

From a drawing by H. Touisalnl.

Sf. John's College. I97

Lady Margaret, are scattered over the whole com-
position. They appear in the crown above the
portcullis ; they cluster beneath the string-course ;
and mixed with other flowers they form a ground-
work to the heraldic devices. The statue of St.
John in the central niche was carved in 1662, to
replace an older statue removed during the Civil
War. There is evidence that formerly the arms
were emblazoned in gold and colours, and that the
horns of the antelopes were gilt.

The second court, a spacious quadrangle, con-
siderably larger than the first, was commenced in
1598. The architect was Ralph Symons, whose work
at Trinity has been already recorded, and the builder
Gilbert Wigge of Cambridge. It was finished
in 1 602 " in a manner," says Baker, " ruinous to
the undertakers and not over advantageous to
the College." It appears that Wigge got into
pecuniary difficulties, and was imprisoned for debt
during the progress of the work, the college
having to release him fi-om durance vile ; and
further, that no inconsiderable part of the cost fell
upon the Master and Fellows. Mary Cavendish,
Countess of Shrewsbury, had originally under-
taken to defiray the entire cost, but she found
herself unable to pay more than ^2,760, instead
of ^3,400, the amount of the contract. For some
private reasons she wished that her share in the

198 Cambridge.

work should remain unknown. Such attempts,
however, whether in literature or in benefections,
are rarely successfiil, and her case was no exception
to the general rule. After remarking that " she is
justly entitled to the foundation of the whole, what
she did being wholly owing to her favour, and what
she left undone being owing to her misfortunes,"
the historian adds :

" It is certain the secret was out before the building was
up, and that both she and the lord her husband were known
to be at the bottom of the design, though from a clause in the
contract it seems to have been at first a secret, where the
undertakers oblige themselves to leave room over the gate for
such arms as the College should afterwards set up there, which
are now the arms of Talbot and Cavendish."

In Baker's time the building was thought to be
" slight and crazy," and that it would *' never live
up to the age of the first court." These anticipa-
tions have happily been falsified by the event. The
second court has, in fact, suffered less than the first,
and is still a beautiful specimen of the architecture
of the period when it was erected.

Secrecy seems to have been the rule in this college
where buildings were concerned ; for . it was at-
tempted with regard to the third court in much
the same way, and with the same amount of success,
as for the second. In 1617a new library was re-
quired. Leave was obtained from the Countess of

I

St. John's College. 199

Shrewsbury to build one *' adjoining her ladyship's
court/* and the college set about collecting funds,
but money came in slowly. Before the foundation
had been laid, however, " an unknown person "
came forward and offered ^1,200 to that use, if it
were sufficient, " but would neither advance higher,
nor yet was willing to admit a partner." As m?iy be
imagined, a donation clogged with such a condition
as this caused considerable trouble ; but at last the
unknown person " gave way, and agreed to give
about ^^250 more, with which the beautiful Library
forming the north side of the third court was
erected. The foundations of the west end are
laid in the river, above which the lofty oriel rises.
It is a singularly picturesque structure of red brick
with stone dressings. The date, 1624, inscribed
upon it in large figures of white stone, marks the
completion of that portion of the building only, for
it was not ready for the books until the spring of
1628. In the course of the tedious negotiations
entailed by the strange conditions of the gift, the
anonymous benefactor *^ owned and declared him-
self to be the founder." He turned out to be Dr.
John Williams, Bishop of Lincoln, Lord Keeper
of the Great Seal. The remaining two sides of
this third court were not begun for rather more
than half a century afterwards. The foundations
were laid in 1669, and the whole completed in

200. Cambridge.

four years ; the expense being defrayed by numerous
benefactors, this time not anonymous. By the time
that those ranges of chambers were built the Gothic
style had given way to the classical. Some attempt,
however, was made to assimilate the new building
to the old, and no want of harmony is perceptible.
Our wood-cut shows the gate in the centre of the
west side, a picturesque structure in three floors,
recalling in its general outline the gates of Clare
Hall.

The need for still further accommodation at the
beginning of the present century prompted the
erection of yet a fourth court ; the Society recog-
nising their obligation to retain their undergraduate
members, as far as possible, within the precincts of
the college. The shape of the ground eastward of
the Cam seemed to preclude all chance of building
in close proximity to the other courts ; and a site
was selected on the left bank of the river opposite
to the library. On this Mr. Rickman raised a
lofty and pretentious structure, capable of accom-
modating a great number of persons. There,
however, its merits end. It should be mentioned in
justification of the architect that the ground, which
in the seventeenth century was occupied by a
number of fish-ponds, as Loggan shows, ofFered
such an insecure foundation that a large sum of
money had to be spent upon concrete. Hence

Gateway in (he Third Court
of St. John's.

St. John's College. 203

much that should have been executed, in stone was
worked in wood or plaster, and the portions out
of sight are of plain white brick. The general
design, however, shows that a thorough knowledge
of the history and theory of architecture is not
sufficient to make a practical architect. This court
is joined to the older college by a very picturesque
bridge in a Gothic style, usually spoken of as **The
Bridge of Sighs," from a superficial resemblance to
the so-called structure at Venice, by which its
general outlines may have been suggested. Beyond
the new court are the extensive gardens, on the
western side of which is the delightful *' Wilder-
ness," where a natural profusion of wild flowers
overshadowed by lofty trees, contrasts agreeably
with a carefully kept bowling-green. This is the
spot commemorated by Wordsworth in ** The
Prelude," but his favourite tree is now no more.

(i

All winter long, whenever free to choose.
Did I by night frequent the College grove
And tributary walks ; the last, and oft
The only one, who had been lingering there
Through hours of silence, till the porter's bell,
A punctual follower on the stroke of nine.
Rang, with its blunt, unceremonious voice.
Inexorable summons. Lofty elms,
Inviting shades of opportune recess.
Bestowed composure on a neighbourhood
Unpeaceful in itself. A single tree,

204 Cambridge.

With sinuous trunk, boughs exquisitely wreathed,
Grew there ; an ash, which Winter for himself
Decked out with pride, and with outlandish grace :
Up from the ground, and almost to the top.
The trunk and every master-branch were green
With clustering ivy, and the lightsome twigs
The outer spray profusely tipped with seeds
That hung in yellow tassels, while the air
Stirred them, not voiceless. Often have I stood.
Foot-bound, up-looking at this lovely tree
Beneath a frosty moon. The hemisphere
Of magic fiction verse of mine perchance
May never tread ; but scarcely Spenser's self
Could have more tranquil visions in his youth,
Or could more bright appearances create
Of human forms with superhuman powers.
Than I beheld, loitering on calm clear nights.
Alone, beneath this fairy-work of Earth.'*

Wordsworth resided in this college from 1787
to 1 79 1. His rooms were in the first or entrance-
court, as he tells us in the same poem :

" The Evangelist Saint John my patron was :
Three Gothic courts are his ; and in the first
Was my abiding-place, a nook obscure.
Right underneath, the college kitchens made
A humming sound, less tuneable than bees,
But hardly less industrious, with shrill notes

. Of sharp command and scolding intermixed.'*

Like Byron, Wordsworth misunderstood the
University. He came up with enthusiastic ideas,
formed in lonely hours among the hills and dales

Christ's College. 205

of Westmoreland ; and when he found that those
among whom he was thrown were not all that he
had expected them to be, he laid the fault on the
institutions, and not on the persons whose lives
ofFended him. Hence he became careless of
academic honours ; and is said to have passed the
week before his degree in reading ** Clarissa Har-
lowe " ; an action that would have been most
prudent had he been ready for examination, but
unprepared as he was, could be due only to indif-
ference or to ostentation.

Having spoken of the great college which the
Lady Margaret was prevented by death from
seeing in its completeness, let us say a few words
about her first foundation — Christ's College. It
occupies the site of the Grammar College, called
God's House, which was first placed near Clare
Hall, as we have related in our account of King's
College. The site being required by King Henry
the Sixth, he allowed, and probably assisted,
William Bingham the founder, to acquire a new
site in what was then called Preachers' Street, after
the Dominican Friars. It was intended that the
Society should consist of a master, called Proctor,
and twenty-four scholars. The revenues, how-
ever, were insufficient ; and when the Lady Mar-
garet's attention was drawn to it, the number of
scholars was only four. She was influenced in her

2o6 Cambridge.

action, if we may believe tradition, by her con-
fessor. Bishop Fisher, who, on the same authority,
had been a member of it when he first entered the
University. Partly from her own resources, and
partly through her influence with her son, she
endowed it with sufficient revenues ; changed the
name to Christ's College, "from her singular
devotion to the name of Jesus Christ ; " gave to it
a body of statutes, and lived to see the quadrangle
completed. Part of the Master's Lodge she re-
served to her own use, and may perhaps have even
resided in it ; for Fuller says that she once came to
the College " to behold it when partly built, and
looking out of a window, saw the Dean call a
faulty scholar to correction, to whom she said,
' LentCy lente^ Gently ^ gently ! ' as accounting it
better to mitigate his punishment than procure his
pardon." The old quadrangular arrangement may
be traced in this college more easily than elsewhere
behind the classical facing imposed upon the old
walls in the last century. The chapel is on the
north side; the east side contains the Master's
lodge, and the hall; and the south and west sides
are occupied by chambers. In the centre of the
latter is a noble gateway, flanked by towers, and
decorated with the arms and emblems of the foun-
dress. The position of the lodge, between the
hall and the chapel, illustrates well the ancient

Christ's College. 207

arrangements for the convenience of the Head ; and
an external turret-stair, like that at Peterhouse,

TAe Garden of Christ's College.

Pnm a drawing hyH. Tcussaini.

may still be seen on the side next the garden. The
beautiful building eastward of the older quadrangle

•2o8 Cambridge.

was completed about 1642. It is, of course, in
the classical style of that period, and tradition re-
cords that the architect was Inigo Jones. Whether
this be true or not, the artist who designed it was
unquestionably of first-rate ability, and he has
produced one of the most admirable specimens of
architecture in the University. The garden behind
it, perhaps the most delightful of all the collegiate
gardens of Cambridge, contains the aged mulberry-
tree, its trunk protected by an embankment of
earth, and its decrepit branches supported on
wooden props, which an unvarying tradition asserts
to have been planted by Milton. He resided here
for seven years, from February, 162 5, to July, 1632.
His rooms were on the left side of the court as it
is entered from the street, the first-floor rooms on
the first staircase on that side. They consist at
present of a small study with two windows look-
ing into the court, and a very small bedroom
adjoining. They do not seem to have been
altered since his time. His biographers, as is well
known, have all recorded that his first tutor, Mr.
Chappell, caused him to be flogged ; and much has
been written both to support and to discredit the
story. The public correction of undergraduates
had not then been given up ; for so late as 1649,
Henry Stubbe, afterwards a writer of repute, was
flogged in the Hall of Christ Church, Oxford,

Christ's College. 209

for " insolent and pragmatical conduct." If true,
it i3 at least remarkable that none of Milton s
numerous enemies in after-years should have re-
proached him with it; and the language he uses
in 1642 shows that he had come to think as lightly
of it as men do now-a-days of " swishings " at
school, and that his superiors also had not been
slow to forget the conduct that led to it.

" I acknowledge publicly," he says, ** with all grateful
mind, that more than ordinary respect which I found, above
any of my equals, at the hands of those courteous and learned
men, the Fellows of that College wherein I spent some
years ; who, at my parting, after I had taken two degrees, as
the manner is, signified many ways how much better it would
content them that I would stay ; as by many letters full of
kindness and loving respect, both before that time and long
after, I was assured of their singular good affection towards

me."

15

IX.

College of St. Mary Magdalene. College and

University Libraries.

THE College of St. Mary Magdalene originated
in two messuages granted by Henry VI. in
1428 to the Benedictine House of Croyland for the
convenience of those monks who wished to study
at Cambridge. Out of these messuages, or on
their site, a house was gradually constructed for
the' general use of the Benedictine Order, '' dif-
ferent monasteries building different portions ; thus
Ely built one chamber, Walden a second, Ramsey
a third," says Dr. Caius; and so late as 1777 Cole
saw: the arms of Ely in the spandrels of the door
at the north-west corner of the court. Gloucester
College at Oxford, now Worcester College, was
constructed in a precisely similar manner for the
same Order. The chapel probably belongs to this
period of the history of the house. It was at first
called simply '^ The Monks' Hostel ; " but, before
1483, it had acquired the name of Buckingham

Magdalene College. 211

College, from Henry StafFord, second Duke, who
was beheaded by Richard III. in that year. The
reason for its connection with him has not been
recorded ; but it is evident that he had placed it
under the patronage of his family, for his son,
Edward StafFord, built the hall in I5i9, Bucking-
ham College naturally ceased when the superior
house, Croyland Abbey, surrendered to Henry VIII.
in 1539 ; but the continuity was never sensibly
broken, and within two years and a half it was
refounded under its present name by Thomas,
Lord Audley of Walden, to whom the King had
granted it. He died suddenly in 1544, having
probably made no change in the buildings, which
evidently did not then form a complete quadrangle ;
for we find the Duke of Norfolk, who had married
the daughter and sole heiress of the founder, under-
taking, in J 5 64, to pay ^' 40/. by year till they had
builded the quadrant of their College." The
College was probably completed, partly by his
liberality, partly by that of Sir Christopher Wray,
a subsequent benefactor, before the end of the
sixteenth century.

The main interest of Magdalene College at
present is the possession of the library formed by
Mr. Samuel Pepys, which is contained in a separate
building beyond the quadrangle to the east. This
was not built on purpose to contain it, as is gene-

212 Cambridge,

rally supposed, but was approaching completion at
the time when Pepys determined to bequeath his
library either to Trinity College or to Magdalene
College. The name of the architect, and the pre-
cise date of the structure — an extremely beautiful
one, as our woodcut shows — are unfortunately
alike unknown. Regarding the disposition of his
library, Pepys committed to writing, as part of his
Will, what he modestly terms his " present thoughts
and inclinations " in the matter, among which, after
stating that he prefers a private college to the
Public Library of the University, and Magdalene
College to Trinity College, " for the sake of my
own and nephew's education therein," he expresses
a wish " that a fair roome be provided on purpose
for it, and wholely and solely appropriated thereto ;
and if in Magdalen, that it be in the new building
there, and any part thereof, at my nephew's selec-
tion." There accordingly it is now deposited, and
the name "Bibliotheca Pepysiana'* has been in-
scribed on the front of the building, according to
his desire, together with his motto, " Mens cuj usque
is est quisque*' and the date 1724, when the death
of his nephew, Mr. Jackson, put the College in
possession of the bequest.

Pepys had begun his life at Cambridge as an
undergraduate in 1650. He had been entered at
Trinity, but, before his residence commenced there,

////

r.

Magdalene College. 21$

had removed to Magdalene. He does not appear
to have ever taken a degree, and, perhaps, did not
stay long at the University. Throughout his busy
life, however, he preserved a warm affection for
Cambridge, and for his own college in particular,
which he frequently visited, as his amusing diary
records. The last time that he came there, during
the period of the diary, was in May, 1668, of
which visit he has left the following characteristic
description :

"Here lighting [at Cambridge], I took my boy and -two
brothers, and walked to Magdalene College: and there
into the butterys, as a stranger, and there drank my belly-
full of their beer, which pleased me, as the best I ever
drank : and hear by the butler's man, who was son to Goody
Mulliner over against the College, that we used to buy
stewed prunes of, concerning the College and persons in
it ; and find very few, only Mr. Hollins and Pec hell, I
think, that were of my time. Thence, giving the fellow
something, away walked to Chesterton, to see our old walk,
and there into the Church, the bells ringing, and saw the
place I used to sit in, and so to the ferry, and ferried over
to the other side, and walked with great pleasure, the river
being mighty high by Barnewell Abbey : and so by Jesus
College to the town, and so to our quarters, and to supper.'*

The collection is a very interesting one, not
only from the intrinsic value of the books,
pamphlets, maps, various illustrations of naval
matters at that day, and a vast mass of fugitive
contemporary literature, such as broadsides,

2 1 6 Cambridge.

placards, street ballads, and the like, in-
dispensable to the historian or antiquary engaged
in the investigation of the troublous times in
which Pepys lived ; but also from the fact that
most of the volumes are in the bindings of his
time, and are still in the very bookcases of
mahogany, glazed, in which they were placed
by him in 1666. Pepys records the arrival of
his bookcases, on August 24th in that year, with
much enthusiasm :

"Up, and despatched several businesses at home in the
morning, and then comes Simpson to set up my other new
presses for my books ; and so he and I fell to the furnishing
of my new closett, and taking out the things out of my old ;
and I kept him with me all day, and he dined with me, and so
all the afternoone, till it was quite darke, hanging things, —
that is, my maps, and pictures, and draughts, — and setting up
my books, and as much as we could do, to my most extra-
ordinary satisfaction ; so that I think it will be as noble
a closett as any man hath, and light enough, — though, indeed,
it would be better to have had a little more light."

Many subsequent entries record the almost
childish pleasure he derived from this new
arrangement, and the solace he found, in the
midst of many distracting cares, from cataloguing
and ticketing his books. The diary does not
say anything about the way in which he got
them together. He does not exult, as most
bibliomaniacs do, over the acquisition of each

College Libraries. 217

new treasure. He only speaks generally, in
the document quoted above, of "the infinite
pains, and time, and cost employed in my
collecting, methodising, and reducing the same
to the state it now is."

The mention of the Pepysian Library suggests
a few remarks on other similar repositories for
books in the colleges and university. At first
the stock of books, or rather manuscripts, in
a college was so scanty, that a chest or two in
the muniment-room or chapel was probably
sufficient for their accommodation. As soon,
however, as the college system had definitely
taken root, we find the acquisition of books
recorded, and a library taking its place in every
quadrangle. The erection of that of Peterhouse,
in 143 1, has been already mentioned. It
occupied, originally, nearly the whole of the
western side of the principal court, and must
have been an excellent specimen of a medieval
library. These libraries were usually long,
narrow, and rather low rooms, lighted by
numerous windows in the side-walls, which were
placed tolerably near together, and at no great
height above the floor. There was also a
single and larger window at one or both ends.
This arrangement was dictated by the necessity
for affording ample light to the readers ; for

2 1 8 Cambridge.

the more valuable books, or perhaps all those
of which there was only a single copy, were
not allowed to be taken out by any one, and
for greater security were attached by iron chains
to a , bar fixed in front of the shelves. It was
therefore necessary, especially in college libraries,
where readers might be expected to be numerous,
to provide facilities for consulting a large number
of books at the same time* On this account
medieval libraries are usually far larger than
would be expected from the number of books
contained in each of them. The bookcases
projected from the wall between each pair of
windows, and usually consisted of only one
shelf, raised three or four feet above the
ground. Between each pair of bookcases there
was a bench to accommodate the reader, directly
in front of the window. The books stood with
their leaves turned outwards instead of their
backs as at the present day, and the titles were
written in ink across the closed leaves. The
chains were usually attached to the left-hand
cover, so that they did not get in the reader's
way, and they were sufficiently long to enable
him to take down the volume he wanted to
consult, and place it on his knees, or on a desk
immediately under the shelf on which the
volumes stood. Where there was more than

College Libraries. 219

one shelf the chains belonging to the upper
shelf were, of course, longer than those belong-
ing to the lower one. It was part of the duty
of a librarian, in those days, to see that the
chains did not get tangled.

One of these ancient libraries exists almost un-

Trinily Hall Library.

altered at Merton College, Oxford. The seats
are still there, and the single shelf, though altered
to suit modern requirements, can easily be
made out. Another, equally curious, is to be
seen at Trinity Hall, Cambridge. It is not so
ancient, dating only from the early part of the

2 20 Cambridge.

reign of Queen Elizabeth, but it has been even
lessed altered, and is one of the most quaintly-
picturesque rooms in the University. The book-
cases ofFer the peculiarity of a desk at the top,
placed just so high that a student had his choice
of placing his book upon it and standing to read
it, or of sitting in the more usual way. The
earliest bookcases were plain even to rudeness,
being made of strong thick planks roughly nailed
together ; but gradually ornamentation was ad-
mitted, and some of the bookcases set up in the
seventeenth century are richly carved and deco-
rated. After the invention of printing, the
number of books had of course increased, and
the practice of chaining, though not abandoned,
was no longer universal. From the earliest times
certain volumes had been reserved for the use
of the Fellows, and were distributed annually
among them. The statutes in some colleges
prescribe minutely the assignment of these books,
They were to be brought back once a-year, and
their condition examined, after which they were
re-distributed, but the same book was not to be
assigned a second time to the same person, and
so forth. By this system the libraries became
gradually divided into what was called an outer
and an inner library. The former contained the
books that might be taken out, the latter the

College Libraries. 221

more valuable ones that could only be consulted
in the building itself. These remained chained
down to the end of the last century in many
instances. The increase in the number of
volumes, however, had caused an alteration in
the shape and arrangement of the bookcases. It
was impossible any longer to afford the space
required by the old system. First the seat
between the windows was removed, and replaced
by a low bookcase. Then the space under the
window was utilised, and so the libraries became
subdivided into classes^ and the books were sorted
according to their subject. The seat for the
reader was attached to the lowest shelf, on which
he sat with his back to the books — a far less
comfortable arrangement for him than the old
one had been. When chaining went completely
out of fashion, the seat was taken away, and
replaced by a low plinth. The end of the seat,
however, survived in many cases as a piece of
rich carving, shaped like a wing, of which there
is an excellent example in the old library of
Pembroke College, fitted up in 1690, possibly
from the design of Sir Christopher Wren, who
had designed the new chapel, after which the old
chapel was utilised for the purpose of a library.
In Trinity College we have a splendid and
undoubted specimen of Wren's taste and skill

222 Cambridge,

in designing woodwork. Chaining was, of course,

Carving in- Trinity College JJbrary.

no longer used for libraries newly built at
that time, and he designed his bookcases

Carving in Trinity College Library.
without reference to it. They are placed at

College Library. 7.22

right angles to the walls, but the sills of the
windows are so high that other cases, parallel
to the walls, join those at right angles to them,
so that the library is divided into a series of
compartments of noble proportions, each fitted
with a table and desk (also designed by him)
for convenience of study. The cases are of
Norway oak, classical in style, to suit the build-
ing ; and they are ornamented with cherubs'
heads, and wreaths of flowers, leaves, and fruit,
in lime-wood, by the celebrated Grinling Gibbons.
We figure two of the heads, and one of the most
characteristic of the wreaths of fruit and foliage.

The University was slow in acquiring public
buildings of its own, and the Common Library,
as a building, did not come into existence before
the middle of the fifteenth century, though
Dr. Richard Holme's bequest of books, some
of which yet remain, dates from 1424. The
portion set apart for books was then the first
floor of the south side of the quadrangle. Two
lists of books — one made about 1435, ^^^ ^^^
other dated 1473 — ^^^^ fortunately been pre-
served. On the latter, a former librarian, Mr.
Bradshaw, after indicating various points of
interest, made the following remarks :

" A still more interesting point in the list of 1473 is that
it shows us the books arranged in classes, with stalls on the

224 Cambridge.

north side looking into the quadrangle, and desks on the
south side looking out towards the then rising chapel of
King's College; and we are able to form some judgment
of the relative importance of the different studies of the
place from noticing the classes allotted to each subject.
Our historians are very fond of telling us that the libraries
of the later middle ages were choked with the writings of
the schoolmen, that the Bible and the earlier fathers of the
Church had been supplanted by Petrus Lombardus and his
commentators. A glance at the arrangement of the Uni-
versity library in 1473 will show how false this assumption
is, and a cursory examination of the history of most of our
libraries will show that the great bulk of scholastic writers
were added to our collections by the benefactors of the
seventeenth century, when facts shew that these subjects
were very deeply studied, though it is not always convenient
for those writers to remember it who seek to depreciate as
contemptible everything that was studied before the Refor-
mation. The last four classes on each side of the room were
devoted to Theology, represented by the Bible text and the
leading commentators, St. Augustine, St. Jerome, the Glossa
Ordinaria, Cardinal Hugo, Nicholas de Lyra, and others.
One class only, next to the preceding, was set apart for
Theologia disputata^ the Master of the Sentences and his
expositors. The next three on the same side were devoted
to Canon Law ; and the remaining class on the same side
to Civil Law. On the north side, after the four classes
allotted to Theology, Moral Philosophy, Natural Philosophy,
and Medicine had each one stall, and the remaining one was
given to Logic and Grammar, including, besides, such books
as Ovid's Metamorphoses, Lucan, and Claudian."

It would be beyond our purpose and our limits
to attempt a history of the University Library —

University Library. 225

an enterprise which would require a volume rather
than an essay. We have been led to mention
it merely on account of its connection with the
life and studies of the place, on which we shall
shortly have occasion to speak at greater length.
Unfortunately, at Cambridge we have no such
voluminous annals as the Bodleian has, and few
volumes which go back to a remote antiquity.
The hatred of the old literature prevalent in the
reign of Edward the Sixth caused the destruction
of the library of that day as rubbish or worse,
and in the last century books were stolen out
of the building wholesale. The statement sounds
incredible, but is nevertheless literally true, that
between 171 5 and 1750 the pillage was so
unlimited that the only wonder is that any valu-
able books have been left. The neglect of
libraries during the first half of the eighteenth
century was almost universal. A learned German,
Zachary Conrad von UfFenbach, who visited Cam-
bridge in 1 7 10, gives a deplorable though amusing
picture of the state of things he witnessed. At
Caius College, for instance, the librarian was not
to be found, and all the books that were to be
seen were in a miserable attic, haunted by pigeons,
and so dusty that the visitor was forced to take
off his ruffles before he could examine them.
The University Library was not quite so neglected

16

226 Cambridge.

as that ; nor were the librarians so needy as one
of those at the Bodleian, who had to be " per-
suaded" by the donation of a guinea before he
would show certain manuscripts ! Our traveller,
however, found the printed books "very ill
arranged, in utter confusion, and could not see
the manuscripts on account of the absence of the
librarian. Dr. Laughton, which vexed me not
a little," he says, " as Dr. Ferrari (his guide)
highly extolled his great learning and courtesy,
rara avis in his terris.'^ On a future visit, he
not only succeeded in seeing the coveted volumes,
but, as one that interested him *' was torn at
the end, the beadle or library-keeper, who was
present, gave me a leaf, which I took with me
as a curiosity." Soon after Uffenbach's visit the
Cambridge Library received the great accession
of books from which its present importance may
be said to date — the library of Dr. John Moore,
Bishop of Ely, containing thirty thousand volumes,
which was purchased in 17 15 by King George
the First for ^6,000, and given to the University
at the suggestion, it is said, of Lord Townshend.
The University had presented a loyal address to his
Majesty, which had given him so much pleasure
that he selected this substantial method of testi-
fying his approbation and goodwill. Oxford had
taken a different view of the political situation.

N

University Library. '227

and when the library was sent to Cambridge the
following epigram appeared :

"King George, observing with judicious eyes
The state of both his Universities,
To Oxford sent a troop of horse ; and why ?
That learned body wanted loyalty.
To Cambridge books he sent, as well discerning
How much that loyal body wanted learning."

Cambridge was not slow in publishing an answer,
written by Sir Thomas Browne, the founder of
the prize for epigrams :

" The King to Oxford sent a troop of horse.
For Tories know no argument but force ;
With equal skill, to Cambridge books he sent,
For Whigs admit no force but argument.'*

Additional space was required for so large
an addition ; and it was therefore determined, in
1722, to build a new Senate House, so as to
set free for books the old meeting-place of the
University, then called the Regent House, now
the Catalogue Room of the Library. The present
Senate House having been completed (in 1730),
it was thought desirable to alter the Library, so
as to provide still further accommodation, and to
make it correspond in style with the Senate House.
To effect this, the picturesque facade, built by
Bishop Rotherham about 1475, was ruthlessly

228 Cambridge.

dragged down (in 1754), and replaced by the
present east room, with the whole classical fagade.
The central gateway alone was saved from destruc-
tion by the then possessor of Madingley Hall,
where it is still used as the entrance to the stables.

X.

Gonville and Caius College. Queens' College.

Emmanuel College.

WE must now go back in chronological order,
and mention one of the most beautiful
and celebrated colleges in the University — that,
namely, which owes its present designation to the
great English physician of the sixteenth century,
Dr. Caius. Since his time it has been specially
devoted to the study of medicine. It was founded
originally on a different site, and by a different
person. In 1348 Edward the Third granted his
license to Edmund Gonevill (as the name is there
spelt), rector of Terrington, in Norfolk, to found
a college of twenty scholars, who were to be in-
structed " in dialectic and other sciences," on
a site that he selected in a street called Lurte-
burghlane. This site, of no great extent, stood
behind the churchyard of St. Botolph, at the
north-east corner of what is now Corpus Christi
College. The founder proposed to call his college

230 Cambridge.

" The Hall of the Annunciation of the Blessed
Virgin ; " but so long a title being found incon-
venient, it soon became popularly known as
Gonville Hall. Three years after the foundation
Gonville died, and bequeathed his college to the
care of William Bateman, Bishop of Norwich,
who* was himself engaged at the same time in
establishing his own college of Trinity Hall,
which he had founded in 1350, for scholars in
Canon and Civil Law, One of his first acts was
to remove his friend's college to a site nearer to
his own, where extension would be less difficult.
This removal took place in 1353. The old site
became the orchard of Corpus Christi College,
and Gonville's scholars, partly by altering two
large houses belonging respectively to John de
Cambridge and John Goldcorne — which occupied
no inconsiderable portion of their new site —
partly by building (through the contributions
of various benefactors), established themselves in
what is now the inner court of Gonville and Caius
College. The Italian taste of the last century
has hidden away the picturesque medieval
structures that were still to be seen in 1688 ;
and a casual visitor will find it hard to believe
that the old college is there, hidden away under
the modern facing. Such, however, is the case, and
a few years since, when a new window was being

Caius . College. 231

put into the Combination Room, one of the quaint
two-light windows of the fourteenth century was
exposed to view, in a tolerably perfect condition.

Gonville's scholars remained content with this
narrow site, and apparently made no attempt
at enlarging it for two centuries. On September
4, 1557, it was refounded as Gonville and Caius
College, by Dr. John Keys, better known under
the Latinised form — Caius ; since which time,
to use Fuller's language, " as in the conjunction
of two Roman Consuls, Bibulus and Caius Julius
Caesar, the former was eclipsed by the lustre of
the latter ; so this his namesake Caius hath in
some sort obscured his partner, carrying away the
name of the College in common discourse." The
second founder had passed his undergraduate days
in the older college, where he had obtained the
degree of Bachelor of Arts in 1533 ; after which
he became Principal of Physwick Hostel, a small
educational establishment affiliated to Gonville
Hall ; and apparently continued to reside in
Cambridge until 1539. This makes his " History
of the University," notwithstanding many errors,
so valuable a record for the beginning of the
sixteenth century. There is good reason for
believing that at first he turned his attention
to divinity ; but his foreign travels, and his
studies in Italian Universities, ^ diverted him to

232 Cambridge.

medicine, to which he devoted himself steadily
for the rest of his life. On leaving Cambridge
he took up his abode in the University of Padua,
where he gave lectures on the Greek language,
and obtained the degree of Doctor of Medicine in
1 54 1. During a portion of his residence in that
University he occupied the same house as the cele-
brated Andre Vesale — better known by his Latin
name Vesalius — the first of those great anatomists
who braved popular prejudice, and insisted on the
importance of the dissection of the human body
as the basis of all medical and surgical knowledge.
On leaving Padua he travelled through Italy,
visiting the most famous cities, and especially
searching their libraries for manuscripts of the
ancient authors on medicine. In 1544, he re-
turned to England, and practised as a physician
at Cambridge, Shrewsbury, and London, where
he was appointed physician to Edward the Sixth,
and afterwards to Queen Mary and Queen Eliza-
beth. He became President of the College of
Physicians in 1555, an office which he retained
for five years. Previous to his election he had
been in the habit of delivering lectures on
anatomy for the benefit of the surgeons of
London — the fruit, doubtless, of his Italian
studies and personal intercourse with Vesalius.
He must, therefore, have been a very prominent

Caius College. 233

person in the medical world — a circumstance that
will sufficiently account for the use that Shake-
speare has made of his name when he wished
to introduce a physician into the " Merry Wives
of Windsor," without any necessity for supposing
that direct reference to him was intended by the
poet. The comedy, .moreover, may be dated
1 60 1, twenty-eight years after the death of Caius ;
who, besides, was not a Frenchman as there repre-
sented, but the son of English parents, and born
and bred at Norwich.

His return to his college as co-founder and
generous benefactor — for it was part of his scheme
to found and endow fellowships and scholarships
— was naturally succeeded by his elevation to the
Mastership (January 24, 1559) — a dignity which
he accepted with reluctance, and the emoluments
of which he systematically declined. These he
generously expended on new buildings, of which
he laid the first stone on the west side of the
court that was afterwards called Caius Court, 5 th
of May, 1565, at four o'clock in the morning.
His object in founding his college afresh was the
promotion of sound learning. The inscription
on the foundation-stone summed up these inten-
tions in four significant words : " Johannes Caius
posuit sapienti^y' with a solemn prayer that all
who dwelt therein might be virtuous, learned, and

234 Cambridge.

patriotic. It may at first sight appear strange that
he should have allowed six years to elapse between
his acceptance of the Mastership and the com-
mencement of the buildings. Probably the
intervening period was spent in acquiring the site,
and in storing up materials. This forethought
will account for the short time occupied in the
actual construction, for the last stone is stated by
himself in his " Annals," of which the manuscript
is preserved in the college, to have been laid on
the first day of September, just four months after
the work had been begun. The eastern side of
the quadrangle was taken in hand soon afterwards,
and probably finished with equal rapidity, but its
progress is not so minutely recorded.

The design of the buildings erected by Dr.
Caius is stated, according to college tradition, to
have been brought by him firom Padua. The
agreeable notion, however, that while he was
living abroad he was thinking of his college and
planning its extension, is unsupported by any
evidence whatever. He was at Padua, as we have
seen, in 1541, eighteen years before he was made
master of his college, and twenty-four years before
he began to build. How could he have " so fore-
cast the years " as to imagine his future elevation
to wealth and position ? Again, the design is not
Italian, either in conception or in style. The

e nf Virtue at Caius College.
Fnm a drawing h H. Touaaini.

Caius College. 237

buildings of the University at Padua, which he
might have thought of imitating, and with which
he must, of course, have been familiar, for they
were built by Sansovino or Palladio about 1493,
are totally different from those he afterwards
erected. They are built round a court, in a
heavy, classical style, with a profusion of shafts,
cornices, and battlements ; whereas the design of
Dr. Caius, as our illustration of his Gate of Virtue
shows, is thoroughly Gothic in general plan and
outline, with only a subtle touch of the Renais-
sance here and there in a molding or a detail. It
is just possible that the inscription on the founda-
tion-stone, and the words of the prayer uttered
by Dr. Caius at the ceremony, may have been
suggested by the inscription on the entrance to
the University at Padua, in which the same
thoughts are expressed : '' Sic ingredere ut te ipso
quotidie doctior^ sic egredere ut indies patriae
Christianaque reipublica utilior evadas'^ The
words are difficult to translate literally, but the
general sense is, " So enter that thou may est become
daily more learned ^than thou hast been ; so leave
that day by day thou mayest become more useful to
thy country and to Christendom!'

The arrangement of the Caius Court — two
parallel ranges of buildings connected on the south
by nothing more substantial than a wall of

238 Cambridge.

moderate height with a gate in the centre — was
certainly dictated by sanitary considerations, and
therefore was probably his own, for in his thirtieth
statute he directs that the south side is never to
be enclosed, '* for fear the air should become foul."
The symbolism which governed the names he gave
to the gates is English of the days of Elizabeth
rather than Italian. The college was to be entered
from the outer street through a low postern called
the Gate of Humility. In this spirit the student
was to pass along a stately avenue of trees till he
reached the lofty and beautiful Gate of Virtue.
This is sometimes called the Gate of Wisdom,
because the inscription on the foundation-stone
given above has been inscribed in later times on
its western facade. In the spandrils of the arch,
through which the Caius Court would be entered,
are figures of angels, bearing the one a wreath
and a palm, the other a cornucopia and a purse :
emblems of the gifts that Virtue has in store for
those who follow her. Lastly, the gate by which
the college would be left on the south side was
called the ''Gate of Honour," because it led to
the schools in which University honours were
conferred .

This last, the design of which is directly
attributed to Dr. Caius in the " Annals " as con-
tinued by his successor in the Mastership, though

North Side of the Gale of Honour, Cuius College.

I

Cuius College, 241

not built until after his death, is much more
classical in feeling than any other building in the
college. It consists of a square mass, enriched
with fluted columns bearing pediments, above
which rises a hexagonal superstructure, originally
ornamented with numerous shafts, pinnacles, and
dials. Unfortunately, it was built of very perish-
able stone, and the delicate carvings are fast
crumbling away. Among the decorations were
the heraldic cognisances of the Doctor, the quaint
symbolism of which must be stated in the words
of the original grant, which confers upon

"John Caius, gentleman, and his posterite, theis Armes
and creste with thappertenances as here aftre followith ; that
is to say, gold semyed with flowre gentle, in the myddle of
the cheyfe sengrene resting vppon the heades of ij serpentes
in pale,, their tayles knytt together, all in propre color, rest-
inge vppon a square marble stone vert, betwene theire brestes
a boke sable, garnyshed gewles, buckles gold, and to his crest
vpon thelme a dove argent, bekyd, and membred gewles,
holding in his beke by the stalke flowre gentle in propre
colour, stalked verte, set on a wreth golde and gewles, man-
telled gewles, lyned argent, buttoned golde."

Of this elaborate device the grant vouchsafes the
following explanation. It should be premised that
" sengrene " is house-leek, and " flower gentle "
amaranth.

" Betokening by the boke Lerning, by the two Serpentes
resting vpon the square Marble Stone, Wisdome with grace

17

24.2 Cambridge,

founded and stayed vpon vertues stable stone ; by sengrene
and flower gentle Immortalite that neuer shall fade ; as
though thus I shulde say, Ex prudentia et Uteris^ virtutis petra
firmatisy immortalitas : that is to say, By wisdome and lerning,
graffed in grace and vertue men come to Immortality."

Dr. Caius died July 29, 1573. He was buried
in the chapel, under an elaborate altar-tomb, about
which he had himself given directions some three
weeks before his death. The two sentences
inscribed on it by his friends, " Vivit 'post funera
Virtus " and " Fui CaiuSy' are simple and beauti-
ful.. In 17 19 his grave was opened, and the
following striking description was written by an
eye-witness :

"This brings to my mind what I saw about a.d. 17 19, in
Caius College Chapel. I remember that when they were
theit repairing and beautifying that Chapel, ye workmen had
broke a hole either by accident or design into Dr. Caius'
grave, wch was a hollow place lin'd with brick on ye north
side of ye Chapel at a little distance from his monument wch
is a mural one. The lid of ye coffin was off when I look'd in
witlt a candle fixed in a long cleft stick wch ye workmen
furnish'd me with and with wch I cou'd survey ye sepulchre
very easily. The sides of ye cofiin were remaining, tho' in a
'di«joynted and rotten condition. The body seem'd to have
been a very lusty one, and ye cofiin was pretty full of it ; the
filesh was of a yellowish black colour, and yielded to ye least
touch of ye stick and fell to pieces. The eyes were sunk
deep into their sockets. A long grey beard much like that
wch we see in y® picture of him, only this was grown very
rou^lv by long time ; I think it was then about 145 years

Caius College. 243

from ye time of his death. I touched his beard with ye stick
and turn'd it a little on one side ; it accordingly lay on one
side, having lost all manner of elasticity : I therefore brought
it back to its right place again. The sight occasioned in me
serious reflections, and I went away with such a regard as I
thought due to ye memory of so considerable a mann as Dr.
Caius had been."

We have seen how earnest Dr. Caius had been
in imparting medical knowledge to others, and how
firmly he held to the importance of a knowledge
of anatomy as a principle of medical study.
He was a travelled man, too, an accomplish-
ment rare in that age, and his intercourse with
foreign men of science might have imparted to
him ideas less narrow than those which had
hitherto governed the colleges of Cambridge. Yet
his statutes are in no way an improvement upon
those of his predecessors. He makes no attempt
to found a scientific college on broad principles,
the main lines of which would have been suitable
to all time. It is true that he obtained a royal
license to allow dissection of the human body ;
but his statute headed " Anatomia " is principally
occupied with directions about burying the body
after dissection in St. Michael's Churchyard with
due reverence. Of the thirteen Fellowships, only
two are to be held by medical men ; but in this
particular he may have felt himself fettered by his
predecessor. Bishop Bateman, for he regarded three

244 Cambridge.

only of the Fellows as peculiarly his own. His
own third Fellow, however, is to be a theologian.
The study of medicine is inculcated in only one
statute, and in it no better system is suggested
than disputations in the college chapel ; a course
which, unless very careful precautions are taken,
and preliminary examinations are held, may easily
degenerate into a barren recurrence of question and
answer, such as Moliere has so mercilessly ridiculed
in his " Malade Imaginaire." The rest of the hun-
dred and seven chapters into which this curious code
is divided are occupied with minute directions for
regulating the daily life of the students, the care
of the buildings, and the management of the
estates — matters which might well have been left
to the good sense of the officers of the college. For
instance, it is gravely prescribed that no member
of the college is to enter a tavern more than twice
a-year ; no one is to presume to set foot on the
leaden roof of the Gate of Virtue, except to repair it ;
the other gates are to be opened and shut at stated
hours ; the rents of the estates are never to be
diminished or increased, and so forth. But we
must not linger any longer over this interesting
subject, for we have something to say about
Queens' College.

The history of the foundation has been already
recounted. The buildings of the principal quad-

I

I

^eens College. 247

rangle were at once put in hand, and completed by
the end of 1448 or the beginning of 1449. They
are built of red brick, in a simple style that recalls
the earlier portions of Eton College. The quad-
rangle is entered through a massive gateway in
two stories, flanked by octagonal towers ; and there
are square towers at each external angle. The east
and south sides are occupied by rooms, the north
side by the chapel and library, and the west, side
by the hall, kitchen, and other offices. This portion
of the college retains its ancient aspect more
thoroughly than any other in the University.
Beyond the principal court is a smaller one, extend-
ing to the river. A picturesque building in red
brick, probably coeval with the rest, extends along
the river bank, with a cloister on the side next the
court. Cloisters also extend along the north and
south sides, with the intention, no doubt,* of pro-
viding a passage dry-shod from the rest of the
college to the western building. Over the north
cloister is the wooden gallery of the President's
Lodge — a singularly beautiful specimen of that
usual appendage to a sixteenth-century house, and
quite unaltered. There are three picturesque oriels
on either side, not placed opposite to each other, as
a modern architect would infallibly have constructed
them, but alternately, so that the whole space
within is equally well lighted. In former days the

248 Cambridge.

oriels rose above the roof, with diminishing stages
of lead-work, crowned by iron vanes of excellent
design. These ornaments, alas ! have been swept
away ; and it was only by accident that the gallery
itself escaped destruction, for in the last century
" the ingenious Mr. Essex " was employed to
construct what was then called a " new and
elegant " building along the west front. He began
at the south angle, and having erected a mon-
strously ugly range of chambers along Silver
Street, proceeded to do likewise along the river-
side. He pulled down some thirty feet of the old
work, and would have destroyed the whole had
funds been forthcoming. But fortunately they ran
short, and the Lodge was saved.

It was in this college that the celebrated
Erasmus resided during part, at least, of the time
that he spent in Cambridge. " Queens' CoUedge,"
says Fuller, " accounteth it no small credit there-
unto that Erasmus (who no doubt might have
pickt and chose what House he pleased) preferred
this for the place of his study for some years in
Cambridge. Either invited thither with the fame
of the learning and love of his friend Bishop
Fisher, then Master thereof, or allured with the
situation of this CoUedge so near the River (as
Rotterdam his native place to the Sea), with plea-
sant walks thereabouts." His memory is per-

^eens' College. 249

petuated by a walk on the west side of the Cam
called Erasmus' Walk ; and his study, high up in
the tower at the south-west angle of the court, is

The Lodge of Queens' College.
Still pointed out. The following curious passage,
written, it is true, nearly a century and a half after-
wards, but by a Fellow of the College who could

250 Cambridge.

hardly have been misinformed, pleasantly describes
the traditional belief :

"The staires which rise up to his studie at Queens'
College in Cambr. doe bring into two of the fairest
chambers in the ancient building; in one of them, which
lookes into the hall and chief court, the Vice-President
kept in my time ; in that adjoyning, it was my fortune to
be, when fellow. The chambers over are good lodgeing
roomes ; and to one of them is a square turret adjoyning,
in the upper part of which is the study of Erasmus ; and
over it leads. To that belongs the best prospect about
the colledge, viz. upon the river, into the corne-iields, and
CQuntfey adjoyning. So y* it might very well consist. with
the civility of the House to that great man (who was no
fellow, and I think stayed not long there) to let him have
that study. His slccping-rome might be either the Vice-
President's, or, to be neer to him, the next. The room for
his servitor that above it, and through it he might goe to
that studie, which for the height and neatnesse and prospect,
might easily take his phancy."

There are some amusing allusions in his letters
to his discomforts, which appear to have been
much the same as those commonly experienced
by foreigners in a strange country. The climate,
the drink, the encouragement he met with in his
lectures, are all subjects for grumbling. '' I can-
not go out of doors for the plague," he says,
writing to a friend in 15 10; "I am beset with
thieves, and the wine is no better than vinegar."
Again, in August, 151 1, we read, "I shall stay

Emmanuel College. 251

•

some days at least in this college. I have not as
yet submitted myself to an audience, for I am
anxious to take care of my health first. I do
not like the ale of this place at all, nor are the
wines particularly palatable. If you could manage
to send me a cask of Greek wine, the very best
that can be bought, you would be doing your
friend a great kindness, but mind that it be not
too sweet." The wine evidently came, and was
of the proper quality, for in October following he
writes, " I am sending you back your cask, which
I have kept by me longer than I otherwise should
have done, that I might enjoy the perfume at
least of Greek wine. My expenses here are
monstrous, and not a farthing to be gained. I
have been here not quite five months, and yet
have spent sixty nobles ; while certain members
of my class have presented me with just a single
one, which they had much difficulty in persuading
me to accept." Notwithstanding all these draw-
backs, however, which are very likely exaggerated
for his fi-iend's amusement, he stayed at Cambridge
for upwards of seven years, giving lectures in
Greek and Theology.

In the next place we must say a few words
about Emmanuel College, of which we have
figured a small portion. It was mentioned in a
previous article that the site chosen for it was that

252 Cambridge.

of the Convent of the Black Friars, or Friars
Preachers. They were dispossessed by King
Henry VIII. ; but for some reason, now unknown,
their buildings escaped the destruction that fell
on those of the Carmelites and Franciscans ; and
when Sir Walter Mildmay obtained possession
of them forty years afterwards, his architect,
Ralph Symons, was able to adapt some of them
to collegiate purposes with hardly any alteration. )
This College, and Sidney Sussex College, founded
in 1594 by the will of the Lady Francis Sidney,
Countess of Sussex, on the site of the Franciscan
house, are the first Protestant foundations. Sir
Walter was himself a staunch Puritan, and Queen
Elizabeth is reported to have said to him, " Sir
Walter, I hear that you have erected a Puritan
foundation." " No, Madam," he replied ; " far
be it from me to countenance anything contrary
to your established laws ; but I have set an
acorn, which, when it becomes an oak, God alone
knows what will be the fruit thereof." The
charter granted to him by the Queen is dated
nth of January, 1584. Therein his foundation
is described as '' a College of Theology, Science,
Philosophy, and Literature, for the extension of
the pure Gospel of Christ our only Mediator, to
the honour and glory of Almighty God " ; and in
the preface to his Statutes he refers to the

!l

n

Emmanuel College. 255

" schools of the prophets '' mentioned in the
Old Testament, to the learning that St. Paul
had acquired at the feet of Gamaliel, and to the
incessant watchings of the Levites in the Temple,
as parallels to the learning that should be stored
up, and the watchfulness that should be displayed,
in order to extirpate Papistical heresies and diffuse
the true Gospel of Christianity. The principles
of the founder were encouraged so well by his
immediate successors that, in 1629, Archbishop
Laud described Emmanuel College as a nursery of
Puritanism ; and during the Commonwealth no
less than eleven of the Heads of Colleges im-
posed by those in authority were selected from
Emmanuel. Evelyn, who visited Cambridge in
1654, speaks of it as "that zealous house"; and
in later days it is referred to as " the pure house
of Emmanuel."

The view of Emmanuel College in Loggan's
work shows buildings so different from the
present ones, that were it not for the chapel
it would be difficult to recognise their identity.
In 1688 the entrance to the College was in
Emmanuel Street, through a small court, open
to the north. From this the principal court was
entered, of which the west side, where the gate of
entrance now is, was occupied by chambers. It is
probable that these were contrived out of part of

256 Cambridge.

the conventual buildings. The Hall, as now,
was on the north side, and a range of chambers,
called *' The Founder's Range," was on the south
side. The building called *' The Brick Building,"
at right angles to this — of which a small portion
is shown in our illustration — was begun in 1633,
and is an excellent specimen of the style of that
period. The chapel, with the cloisters by . which
it is joined to the north and south sides of the
quadrangle, is due to the energy of Dr. Sancroft,
Master from 1662 to 1665, who afterwards, when
Archbishop of Canterbury, became famous as the
author of the petition of the seven Bishops
against the Declaration of King James 11. The
architect was Sir Christopher Wren. He evidently
borrowed the general idea of the composition from
Peterhouse. The space over the cloister, however,
serves at Emmanuel the double purpose of a
passage for the Master to the chapel, and of a
picture-gallery in connection with the Lodge — an
original feature, due, in all probability, to the
ingenuity of Wren. In his first design he
intended to build the chapel and cloister in red
brick, with stone dressings, the effect of which
would have been far more picturesque than the
uniform stonework which was substituted for it.
The reasons for the alteration have not been
recorded. The " Founder's Range " was rebuilt

TSe Senate House and University Library.

yn-m a dnamKg ty A . Bnaul Dihamii.

Emmanuel College. 259

in 17 1 9, and in 1769 the west front was changed
to its present appearance, after a design prepared
by Sir James Burrough in 1752. He died in
1764, and the execution was entrusted to Essex.
A contemporary records that the plan " was
departed from in almost every instance, and in
some considerably improv'd."

Under the hospitable guidance of "rare Richard
Farmer," Master from 1775 ^^ I797> ^^^ Com-
bination Room, called Emmanuel Parlour, acquired
a great reputation for geniality and good-fellow-
ship. It is said to have been open every evening
** to those who loved pipes and tobacco and
cheerfril conversation." Dr. Farmer was not
merely a Shakespearean critic, he delighted in the
stage as a spectator, and during the period of
Sturbridge fair went regularly every evening to
the theatre there with his friends. Those who
disapproved of this dramatic enthusiasm nick-
named them "The Shakespeare Gang." They
were most indulgent critics, and contributed
greatly to the success of the performance by
uniformly applauding everything and everybody.

Our woodcut shows the facade of the University
Library, of which we have already spoken.

XI.

Jesus College,

ABOUT the middle of the twelfth century
a Benedictine sisterhood, consisting of a
prioress and eleven nuns, established themselves
in the middle of the Greencroft — a piece of
common ground, which we described in our
imaginary survey of Cambridge as extending
from the eastern limits of the town along the
riverside as far as the village of Barnwell. This
site they obtained by the favour of Malcolm IV.,
King of Scotland, in virtue of his rights as Earl
of Huntingdon. Very little is known of the
history of the convent. The sisterhood seems to
have been regarded with special favour by the
ecclesiastical magnates of those days ; for we find
privileges granted to them, not only by the
Bishops of Ely, who were patrons of the House
in virtue of their office, but by the Bishop of
Norwich, the Bishop of Lincoln, and even the
Archbishop of Canterbury. In the thirteenth

Jesus College, 261

century, when insurance offices were unknown,
the damages done by a fire or storm had to be
repaired by voluntary contributions. On such
occasions episcopal favour (if it could only be
obtained), applied a powerful spur to the charity
of the faithful, who, in days when news travelled
slowly, might otherwise have never heard of the
disaster, still less have contributed to repair it.
A few facts have come down to us, supported by
documentary evidence still existing in the Treasury
of Jesus College, which show how valuable eccle-
siastical favours must have been to the Nuns of
Greencroft. In 1 254 the Bishop of Norwich grants
a relaxation of twenty-five days' penance to all bene-
factors to the nunnery, whether for the sustenance
of the nuns, or the building of their church. In
1268 the Bishop of Lincoln gives them leave to
collect alms for the same purpose. In 1277 the
Bishop of Norwich issues a circular letter to the
clergy and laity of his diocese, calling upon them
to afford any assistance to the nuns, who were in
difficulties from the sudden ruin of their bell-
tower. In 13 1 3 the Archdeacon of Ely recom-
mends them as persons deserving of charity,
because they have lost their entire property {bona
omnia) by a fire ; and in the following year* the
Bishop of Ely confirms certain indulgences granted
to them by his brother bishops for the same object.

262 Cambridge,

In 1376 the Bishop of Ely interferes again, and
grants an indulgence of forty days — i.e.^ a remis-
sion of penance imposed for misdeeds to be valid
for that period — to all who shall contribute to a
fund for making good their losses by another fire.
Lastly, in 1390, the Archbishop of Canterbury
grants them a similar indulgence, part of their
habitation having been blown down by a storm.
Besides these special contributions, their annual
revenue derived from houses and lands, chiefly in
Cambridge, became extensive, and they were enabled
to erect a magnificent church, the relics of which
may still be seen in the chapel of Jesus College.
In all monasteries the church invariably exceeded
the other buildings in size and splendour ; but, at
the same time, it is reasonable to suppose that the
refectory, dormitory^ cloister, &c., would be
erected in a style that would not offer too marked
a contrast to that of the church. At the close of
the fifteenth century, John Alcock, Bishop of Ely,
obtained leave from Henry VII. to suppress the
nunnery, and to replace it by Jesus College, con-
ferring on the new corporation the revenues, as
well as the site and buildings, of the sisterhood.
If we are to believe the account given in the pre-
amble to the Charter, which is dated June 12,
1497, this act was occasioned by the misconduct
of the nuns. This, however, is at least doubtful.

Jesus College.

263

At that time suppression of monasteries had
come within the range of practical politics, as we
say now-a-days, and when the extinction of a given
House had been decided on, it was obviously
advisable to silence popular clamour by making
the case against it as strong as possible. A second
suppression of a religious house at Cambridge —
that, namely, of St. John's Hospital — took place
twelve years afterwards, and the reasons, as stated
in the charter of St. John's College, are so
curiously similar to those given in the case of the
nuns of St. Rhadegund, that it will be interesting
to compare them. We have translated them, and
print them side by side.

The House or Priory of
the Nuns of St. Rhadegund,
its lands, tenements, rents,
possessions, buildings, as well
as its effects, furniture,
jewels, and other ecclesias-
tical ornaments, piously and
charitably conferred upon
the said house or priory in
former times, have now been
so grievously dilapidated, de-
stroyed, wasted, alienated,
diminished, and made away
with, by the carelessness, im-
providence and dissolute
conduct of the prioress and
nuns of the aforesaid House

The House or Priory of the
Brethren of St. John the
Evangelist, its lands, tene-
ments, rents, possessions,
buildings, as well as its
effects, furniture, jewels, and
other ornaments of the
church, conferred upon the
said house or priory in former
times, have now been so
grievously dilapidated, de-
stroyed, wasted, alienated,
diminished, and made away
with, by the carelessness, pro-
digality, improvidence, and
dissolute conduct of the
prior, masters, and brethren

264

Cambridge.

or Priory, occasioned by the
neighbourhood of the Uni-
versity of Cambridge ; and
the nuns themselves have
been reduced to such want
and poverty that they are
unable in any way to perform
Divine Service, or their ac-
customed duties, whether of
religion, mercy, or hospitality,
according to the original
ordinance of their founders,
or even to maintain them-
selves, inasmuch as their
number has now been
reduced to two, whereof one
has. entered a religious house
elsewhere, and the other is
leading a life of sin.

of the aforesaid House or
Priory ; and the brethren
themselves have been re-
duced to such want and
poverty that they are unable
to perform Divine Service,
or their accustomed duties
whether of religion, mercy,
or hospitality, according to
the original ordinance of
their founders, or even to
maintain themselves, by
reason of their poverty and
want of means of support ;
inasmuch as for a long while
two brethren only have been
maintained in the aforesaid
House, and these are in the
habit of straying abroad in
all directions beyond the pre-
cincts of the said religious
House, to the grave dis-
pleasure of Almighty God,
the discredit of their Order,
and the scandal of the Church.

The identity of the charges brought against
these two religious bodies cannot be due to mere
accident ; and it is almost impossible to believe
that the brethren and the nuns should have fallen
into precisely the same delinquencies, or that the
number left in the House should have been two
in each case. It might almost be conjectured that

Jesus College. 265

the officials who drew royal charters kept in their
bureau a passage ready to meet the case of the
suppression of a religious house, and used it on
occasion, with the mere alteration of name and
place.

A few parchment rolls detailing the receipts and
expenses of these unfortunate ladies have been
preserved, from which we gain some insight into
the way in which they spent their money, and the
style in which they lived. The first of these is
for 1449-50 ; and certainly lends no support to
the episcopal charges of poverty and want of
thrift. The receipts may be roughly stated at
^80, equivalent at least to ^1,000 at the present
day. They are derived fi-om the rents of farms
in the country and houses in Cambridge ; receipts
for dues payable in the market, and profits from
the fair which the House was allowed to hold on
the Festival of the Assumption ; the sale of corn
and stores ; tithes ; and payments fi-om the Vicar
of St. Clement's Church.

The expenses indicate a well-managed and hos-
pitable community. There are repairs to their
own buildings, and to their farms, with the
purchase of stock and agricultural implements.
A horse bought at the fair of St. John Baptist,
costs 9s. 4d. ; but another, bought of Richard
Baker, of Bumstede, only 4s. There are many

266 Cambridge.

charges for bleeding and shoeing the horses ; the
shoes and nails being bought, as usual, in gross,
and laid up in the storehouse for use. Labour on
the farm and garden occupies a considerable space.
We meet with the yearly wages of the ploughman
and the shepherd, charges for manure, for pruning
trees, fattening pigs, washing and shearing sheep,
&c. The wool was brought to the Convent, and
there utilised. A couple of women are hired to
spin it ; and Roger Rede of Hynton is paid
3s. 5d. "for weaving 77 ells of woollen cloth for
the livery of the servants." Other persons are
engaged to shear it and full it. Lastly, William
Judde, of St. Ives, receives 9s. 9d. for dyeing it
green and blue. *' Our lady's servants," as the
retinue of the Prioress is called, must have made
a brave show when they donned their new gar-
ments ! The roughness which we are too apt
to associate with medieval habits seems to have
been absent from the Refectory, for we read of the
purchase of " boardcloths " and table-napkins,
and of linen bought for the Naprie^ probably the
linen-closet. The charges for the Guest Hall,
that universal adjunct to a medieval monastery,
whether for men or women, indicate a somewhat
profuse hospitality. In addition to the ordinary
charges for beef, pork, mutton, and veal, and for
a whole cow, which perhaps was bought to be

Jesus College, 267

salted, there is a special charge " for bread, ale,
beef, mutton, lamb, veal, pork, hens, chickens,
eggs, butter, and fish, fi-esh-water and sea, bought
for eating in the Guest Hall, as set forth in detail
in a paper-book examined against this account,
11/. "IS. \\dr These items, amounting to almost
one-seventh of the entire income of the House,
must surely refer to some extraordinary festivity.
Two other rolls contain similar items. The last
of the series, that for 1481-82, just fifteen years
before the suppression, shows a considerable falling-
ofF from the former prosperity of the House.
The receipts have fallen to ^^38 15s. 8Jd. ; a
condition of things which lends some colour to
Bishop Alcock's charges. It is much to be re-
gretted that the series should be so broken. Were
it complete much light would be thrown on that
supremely interesting question — the real condition
of the Monasteries at the time of their suppression.
Jesus College is approached by a long gravelled
path between high walls, popularly called *' The
Chimney." The distance of the church from
the street, about seventy yards, was probably
dictated by a wish for privacy ; but it is
not so easy to decide why the nuns placed it on
the south side of their buildings, instead of on the
north, having regard to the great extent of their
site. It is evident that this must have been the

268 Cambridge,

arrangement of the nunnery, as it is of the college,
for, otherwise, Bishop lAlcock would hardly have
deviated from the more usual plan, which wisely re-
served the warmer south side of the quadrangle for
the rooms in which the students were to live.
The church was 1 8 5 feet long within the walls.
It was planned in the form of a cross, with a
central tower and transepts. The choir, 65 feet
long by 23 feet broad, had chapels on its north
and south sides for about half its length, opening
into it by two pier-arches in each wall. The
transepts are 24 feet broad, and 28 feet long.
The nave, 86 feet long and 24 feet broad, had
originally seven pier-arches, and north and south
aisles. It must have been, as Professor Willis said,
" An admirable specimen of the architecture of
its period, and two of the best preserved remain-
ing portions, the series of lancet-windows on the
north and south sides of the eastern limb, and the
arcade that ornaments the inner surface of the
tower-walls, will always attract attention for the
beauty of their composition.'' But a large and
complex church was obviously unsuited to the
requirements of a college, and under the direction
of Bisiiop Alcock, " the side-aisles, both of the
chancel and the nave, were entirely removed, the
pier-arches by which they had communicated with
the remaining central portion of the building were

Jesus College. 269

walled up, and the place of each arch was
occupied by a Perpendicular window of the
plainest description. The walls were raised, a
flat roof was substituted for the high-pitched
roof of the original structure, large Perpendicular
windows were inserted in the gables of the chancel
and south transept, and lastly, two-thirds of the
nave were cut off from the church by a wall, and
fitted up partly as a Lodge for the Master, partly
as chambers for students.

" As for the portion set apart for the chapel of
the college, the changes were so skilfully effected,
and so completely concealed by plaster within and
without, that all trace and even knowledge of the
old aisles was lost ; but in the course of the
preparations for repairs in 1846, the removal of
some of the plaster made known the fact that the
present two south windows of the chancel were
inserted in walls which were themselves merely
the fiUing-up of a pair of pier-arches, and that
these arches, together with the piers upon which
they rested, and the responds whence they sprang,
still existed in the walls. When this key to the
secret of the original plan of the church had been
supplied, it was resolved to push the inquiry to
the uttermost ; all the plaster was stripped off
the inner face of the walls ; piers and arches were
brought to light again in all directions; old

270 Cambridge.

foundations were sought for on the outside of
the building, and a complete and systematic
examination of the plan and structure of the
original church was set on foot, which led to
very satisfactory results." ^

It would lead us beyond the purpose of these
descriptive notes to enter upon a detailed descrip-
tion of the church. For this we refer our readers
to Professor Willis himself He has shown that
it was erected between 11 50 and 1245, ^^ ^^'^^ ^^^
style varies from the Norman of the north
transept to the Early English of the choir ; and
that ** during that period the work was carried on at
several different times, and with changes of plan,
each of which was on a more enlarged scale of
dimensions than its predecessor, and showed the
increased and increasing wealth of the builders."
Those who visit the chapel should specially note
the piscina, a lovely example in the Early English
style. It was evidently thought to be something
out of the common, even in the thirteenth
century, for it was copied in the parish church
of Histon in Cambridgeshire, and at St. John's
Hospital.

* "The Architectural History of the University of
Cambridge." By the late Robert Willis, M.A., F.R.S. :
edited by John Willis Clark, M.A., 3 vols,, 8vo, 1886. Vol.
ii. p. 124.

■^5

Jesus College. 273

In the interval between Bishop Alcock's time
and the restoration of which Professor Willis
speaks, the chapel had met with the usual
treatment. The chancel alone was used for
service ; a wall, pierced with a door in the Ionic
style, divided it oiF from the nave ; it had a flat
ceiling, and plain woodwork, the whole of Alcock's
magnificent stalls having been turned out — in
short, as the taste of fifty years ago expressed
itself, it had " an air of great elegance and
beauty." The work begun in 1846 was a real
restoration ; for the destroyed portions were re-
placed, so far as funds, and the needfiil arrange-
ments of the college, would allow. It was
impossible to open out the nave, or to rebuild its
aisles ; but the north aisle of the choir was rebuilt
on the old foundations, with an organ-chamber
beyond ; and the eastern triplet was re-constructed
firom fragments found in the east wall which
Alcock had rebuilt. This triplet is shown in our
view of the chapel. In a subsequent alteration
of the Master's Lodge, fragments of a west door
— the existence of which Professor Willis had
always suspected — were discovered, but this feature
could not be preserved. It indicates that part of
the church must have been separated ofF by screens
for public use. Probably this portion was called
the Church of St. Rhadegund, and gave origin to

19

274 Cambridge.

the belief that a separate parish church of that
name once existed.

A cloister was an essential part of all monas-
teries. We commonly conceive the monastic
life as a private life. It would be nearer the
truth to call it a public life. In monasteries
the inmates dined together in the Refectory,
slept together in the dormitory, worshipped
together in the church, and lived together in
the cloister. There they kept their books, either
in small cupboards cut out of the thickness of
the wall, or in wooden presses ; and retired
thither for study after dinner, each sitting in
his " carrell," as it was called. In the cloister,
too, the novices were taught, and certain cere-
monies performed on stated days. There also
recreation was permitted, and exercise was taken.
In colleges a cloister was not required, except
for exercise in wet weather ; and therefore
only appears occasionally, as a separate court
subsidiary to the main quadrangle, round which
were grouped the buildings primarily required
for the collegiate life. Jesus College, however,
proves its monastic origin by being the only
college in either University in which the principal
quadrangle is cloistered. This cloister now rests
on open arches, but originally it had in their
place windows of three lights, glazed, as shown

Gale of Entrance to Jesus College.

From a dramilng iy A. E. Ptarci.

n

Jesus College. 277

in Loggan's print. The alteration was made in
the middle of the last century, to admit more light
and air. Bishop Alcock grouped the usual build-
ings required for a college round the cloister of
the nuns, which he increased by the breadth of the
north aisle of the church, which he pulled down.
He placed the Hall on the north side, the Library
on the west side, and the pantry, larder, kitchen,
&c., in the angle between these two buildings
The Master's Lodge is now partly at the south
end of the west range, partly in the altered nave
of the chapel, partly in the short range which
connects the principal quadrangle with the gate
of entrance. This beautiful structure, of red brick
with stone quoins, is ascribed to Bishop Alcock on
internal evidence only. Originally it rose above
the buildings to the right and left of it like a
tower ; but, since additional floors have been
added to them, its proportions appear somewhat
dwarfed. Professor Willis' description of its
distinctive features is worth quotation :

" The picturesque red-brick gateway-tower of Jesus
College (1497), although destitute of angle-turrets, is yet
distinguished from the ground upwards by a slight relief, by
stone quoins, and by having its string-courses designedly
placed at different levels from those of the chambers on each
side of it. The general disposition of the ornamentation of
its arch and of the wall above it furnished the model for the
more elaborate gate-houses at Christ's College and St. John's

278 Cambridge.

College. The ogee hood-mold rises upwards, and the stem
of its finial terminates under the base of a handsome
tabernacle which occupies the centre of the upper stage,
with a window on each side of it. Each of the spandrel
spaces contains a shield, and a larger shield is to be found in
the triangular field between the hood-mold and the arch."

This gate gives access to an outer court, like
the curia of a monastery. On the west side
it is open, but has ranges of buildings on the
three others : on the north side a range built
in 1638-41, but ingeniously designed so as to
harmonise exceedingly well with the earlier
buildings ; on the south side the range containing
the gate of entrance ; and on the east side the
kitchen, library, &c., of the principal quadrangle.

Of late years the great increase in the number
of students at Jesus College has rendered neces-
sary a corresponding increase of accommodation.
There are now four courts, in lieu of the two
which formerly sufficed for the inmates. A
**New Court" has been formed beyond the
*' Outer Court," by building a range of chambers
nearly parallel to the range completed in 1641.
Some modern offices, and a range of chambers
built in 1822, form the east side of this court,
which, like its neighbour, is open to the west.
Subsequently an extensive range of buildings
was erected eastward of the chapel, so as to make

II

Jesus College. 281

the latter building a more prominent feature of
the college than it had been heretofore. When^
we add that besides these structures two houses
for married tutors have been built, and are
occupied, we shall have completed our enumera-
tion of the changes by which Jesus College
has been made to harmonise with modern ideas.

XII.

Social Life at Cambridge. — " '7Vj Sixty Years

Since:'

IN our previous articles we have given a series
of historical notices concerning the most
important colleges. These have related chiefly
to the buildings, though from time to time we
have had occasion to mention the social life and
studies of the place. We now propose to say some-
thing more about this department of University
History ; for just as the records of a nation are
incomplete when they treat only of public aifFairs,
so any account of Cambridge would be imperfect
if the writer did not try to describe, some at
least of the changes that have taken place, from
time to time, in the habits, the tastes, and the
pursuits of the academic body. The Universities
must always reflect the tastes and opinions of the
country, and therefore we find that these changes
have been more rapid and more thorough during
the last half century than during any previous

Social Life. 283

period. On this account we shall not attempt to
go back to any very distant date in our researches,
though occasionally it will be necessary to mention
the habits of the sixteenth and seventeenth cen-
turies by way of illustration. It will be sufficient
for our purpose to sketch that Cambridge which
came to an end with the introduction of railroads,
gas, and other innovations peculiar to this century ;
and, in order roughly to indicate the period from
which we start, we have ventured to borrow a title
firom the author of ^' Waverley.^'

To begin with, it must be borne in mind that
the town of Cambridge was very different then
from what it is now ; indeed, with the exception
of the destruction of the great religious houses,
it had not been much altered during the four
centuries since the period at which we attempted
to sketch its aspect in our first chapter. The
country round about it was quite unenclosed, and
to the south and south-east a man on horseback
might gallop for miles, uninterrupted by a single
fence. The ground where the now populous
" New Town " stands was then a swamp, where
sportsmen were sure of snipe, and the road that
now leads to the railway-station was an elevated
causeway, with this marshy ground to the right of
it. The velvety turf of Gogmagog Hills had not
then been ploughed up, and a bustard was still

284 Cambridge.

occasionally to be seen there. The streets could
hardly have been worse paved than they are at
present, but some of them were much narrower.
A row of ancient houses stood where the lawn in
front of King's College now is, at a distance varying
from ten to twenty feet in advance of the present
iron fence. Trumpington Street, in this part
of its course, was nowhere more than twenty-five
feet wide, and as the upper stories of the houses
projected beyond those beneath them, it used to
be maintained, graphically rather than delicately,
that a man could spit across it. The only light
used at night in the streets was oil. Only one
post came in, and one went out in the twenty-four
hours. There were no public conveyances. If a
gentleman did not keep his own carriage, he must
walk. Ladies went out at night in sedan chairs.
At the end of the previous century there had been
only one umbrella, according to Professor Pryme ;
and this was kept at a shop in Bene't Street, and
let out by the hour. Passenger traffic was by
coaches, which were numerous and well appointed,
but slow ; goods traffic by waggons, or by barges
on the Cam, which was still, as in the Middle
Ages, an important highway, along which all the
fuel — coals, sedge, and turf— as well as a consider-
able quantity of provisions, was brought to the
town. A long frost, therefore, meant death by

Social Life. 285

cold, aggravated by hunger; and instances are
on record of the burning of every article of
furniture that could be dispensed with. The
shops were exceedingly primitive. Most of them
were open, like stalls, and closed at night with a
single wide shutter that let down, and was used
to display the goods on during the day. The
principal purchases of stores of all kinds were
made at the two great annual fairs, Midsummer
Fair and Sturbridge Fair. The latter was by far
the more important of the two, and until the
introduction of railways must have been the chief
event of the year, not only in Cambridge, but
on the whole eastern side of England. The
temporary buildings required for it were com-
menced, by custom, on the 24th of August in
each year, and the fair itself was solemnly
proclaimed by the University on the 17th of
September. The Vice-Chanceilor, attended by
the Bedells, Registrary, Proctors, and other
officers, proceeded to the Senate. House at eleven
o'clock in the forenoon, where the Senior Proctor
provided mulled wine, sherry, and cakes. These
delicacies disposed of, the company proceeded in
carriages to the fair, where the formal proclamation
was read by the Registrary in three different
places. The company then alighted at one of the
permanent structures, called ** The Tiled Booth,"

^

I.

286 Cambridge.

where they elbowed their way through a crowd of
the ordinary customers of the house to an upstairs
room, called " The University Dining Room."
There they partook of oysters, ale, and porter.
Thus fortified they walked in one of the streets of
the Fair, called " Garlick Fair Row," until it was
time to return to " The Tiled Booth " for dinner.
The University was very unpopular at the Fair,
and it seems to have been usual to hustle the
magnates, and to make their progress to their
dinner as difficult as possible. Mr. Gunning,
Esquire Bedell from 1789 to 1854, describes this
curious entertainment, which was not abolished
until 1842, while the proclamation by the Univer-
sity survived until the Award Act of 1856 :

" The scene which presented itself on entering the dining-
room I can describe most accurately, for the dishes and their
arrangement never varied. Before the Vice-Chancellor was
placed a large dish of herrings ; then followed in order a neck
of pork roasted, an enormous plum-pudding, a leg of pork
boiled, a pease-pudding, a goose, a huge apple-pie, and a
round of beef in the centre. On the other half of the
table the same dishes were placed in similar order, the
herrings before the Senior Proctor, who sat at the bottom.
From thirty to forty perjsons dined there ; and although the
wine was execrable, a number of toasts were given, and
mirth and good humour prevailed to such an extent as is
seldom to be met with at more modern and more refined
entertainments. At about half-past six the dinner-party
broke up, and, with scarcely an exception, adjourned to the
theatre.'*

Social Life. 287

In the palmy days of the Fair the space occu-
pied by it was about half a mile square, divided
into streets, which were distinguished by separate
names, such as " Booksellers' Row," " Cooks'
Row," " Cheapside," '' The Duddery," '' Garlick
Fair Row," &c. In each of these some special
trade was represented, as in Leipsic Fair at the
present day. The amount of business done was
enormous. In " The Duddery," where woollen
stuffs were sold, ^100,000 worth of goods is
reported to have been sold in less than a week,
besides the quantity ordered by London traders,
while elsewhere wool to the value of ^^50,000 or
j^6o,ooo was disposed of, and hops to an equal
amount. The Horse Fair, held on September
14th, was always the most crowded day ; but the
numbers that assembled during the whole three
weeks that the Fair lasted were very great. Not-
withstanding the vast concourse of people, the
Fair is described to have been like "a well-
governed city," where order was carefully and
successfully preserved. There was a Court of
Justice, of the kind called " Pie Powder Court "
elsewhere, where the Mayor of Cambridge, or his
deputy, sat daily. On Sundays Divine service was
held in the principal open space, and a sermon
preached from a pulpit placed in the open air, by
the minister of Barnwell parish, or by some one

288 Cambridge.

appointed by him. In addition to serious business
there was, of course, plenty of amusement. It
was a time of licensed frolic, into which all classes
entered with equal zest and gaiety. The dramatic
entertainments were managed by the company of
the Norwich Theatre, one of the best provincial
houses, and were well attended ; while the wives
of county magnates, of University dignitaries,
and even of Heads of Houses, danced at the ball
which was given on some particular evening in one
of the booths. In the case of Midsummer Fair,
when the days were longer, ladies used to get up
tea-parties with the view of walking in the Fair
afterwards.

The popularity of the theatre at the Fair was
evidently very great in the last century, especially
with members of the University. When Mr.
Gunning was a candidate for the office of Esquire
Bedell, in September, 1789, he mentions that
after a morning spent in canvassing, he never
failed to go to the theatre in the evening, feeling
sure that if an elector had arrived at Cambridge
in the course of the day, he should meet him
there. In 1808, when Professor Sedgwick was
reading with pupils at Ditton, a village on the
Cam, not far below Barnwell, his chief amusements
seem to have been the theatre ; and his letters tell
us that he constantly met his friends there. In

Social Life. 289

later times, when a permanent building had re-
placed the temporary structure at the Fair, it
maintained its popularity until railways enabled
everybody to get to London. Most of the cele-
brated actors of the present century have acted on
that miniature stage ; and the last three weeks of
the Long Vacation were looked forward to with
eagerness by the play-loving portion of the com-
munity. So late as 1834, Mrs. Frere, wife of the
Master of Downing, bespoke the performance, and
one of her party has recorded in his diary that
the pieces selected were well acted. Thirty years
ago, when I was an undergraduate, the theatre
used to open as usual, but the audience was, to say
the least of it, thin. Some of us went regularly,
but the pieces performed usually belonged to what
is so oddly called the legitimate drama, and I am
afraid that we received '' Ingomar," " Pizarro,"
"Hamlet," and "The Stranger," with derisive
merriment.

In early times undergraduates lived three and
four together in a room ; and even Fellows could
not always have a room to themselves. The
arrangements for this system differed in different
colleges, and it would be beside our present pur-
pose to go into the matter minutely. A certain
amount of privacy was ensured by the contrivance
of small studies (mus^a)^ separated off by a lath-

20

290 Cambridge,

and-plaster partition from the rest of the room.
The beds were in the undivided portion, and the
inmates retired into these closets for work. As
colleges increased their buildings, the system was
gradually given up, but it was still in fashion at
St. John's so late as 1 7 1 1 , as is seen by the
following letter, which puts the advantages and
disadvantages of it very forcibly. The writer is
the father of Ambrose Bonwicke, who had entered
there as pensioner in the autumn of the previous
year. Ambrose had written to say that he had
arranged for his brother Philip to share his room
with him, and wished for leave to introduce a
friend also :

"I thank you and your tutor for the promise of the
chamber for Phil, and think there may be some conveniencies
in admitting a third, but there may also be some incon-
veniencies which I shall lay before you. By the grace of
God this lad may continue very good, and your society may
contribute towards it ; but should it be otherwise, you will
not know how to get clear of him again. Besides if he be
not exactly of your principles, tho' he be otherwise very
good, 'twill be very inconvenient ; and you cannot at all
times converse so freely with your brother, as 'twill be
necessary you should. I had hopes that your brother might
share with you in Mr. Roper*s favour, and fear this third
chum may be an obstacle to that. Another thing is, if Phil,
should have the small-pox, there will be no room for you to
set up a bed for that time ; and you know I do not care you
should lye with any other but your brother. If this lad has
never had that distemper, he may unhappily bring the infee-

Social Life. 291

tion into your chamber. Besides, I should not like him for
a chum for you, if his dialect be ungenteel, for fear that
infection should reach you, as well as your brother. Yet
after all, I have a great concern for so hopeful a lad as you
describe him, and wish you might enjoy each other's society
in the daytime, tho' you sleep not together ; neither am 1
against that, if you can make me easy as to the foregoing
particulars/*

By the end of the century, however, the present
plan of living in lodgings in the town had been
accepted, though not without many misgivings
and attempts to stop it, or to limit it ; attempts
which have been renewed in our own time.
Let us hope that the system, which is not a good
one, may one day be superseded. In the days
when rooms were shared, the furniture was ex-
ceedingly simple. There was " a standing bed-
stead" for the Fellow, supposing one of the
occupants to be a Master of Arts ; a " trundle-
bed " for the undergraduate, which during the
daytime was pushed under the " standing-bed " of
his superior ; a " leaden laver with a troughe or
spoute to wasshe with ; " a table, with forms or
stools, not chairs ; and a few shelves for their
books and clothes. In many cases the walls were
bare, the floors were of mud, and the roofs open
to the rafters. Subsequently they were made more
comfortable, and during the sixteenth and seven-
teenth centuries wainscot was generally introduced,

292 Cambridge.

and occasionally hangings of " green say." These
luxurious additions to primitive simplicity were
not, however, universal, and probably marked the
presence of a wealthy or luxurious occupant.
The poet Gray is said to have been ** the first,
and for a long while the only person in the
University who made his rooms look pretty. He
took care that his windows should be always full
of mignonette or some other sweetly-scented
plant, and he was famous for a pair of huge
Japanese vases, in blue and white china." Up to
ten or fifteen years ago simplicity was the rule and
not the exception ; and even the fathers of the
present generation would never have dreamt of
decking out their apartments with the china and
other knick - knacks which '^ culture " now
demands.

Dress, independently of cap and gown, was
formerly watched by the authorities with jealous
care, and deviations from established custom
summarily checked. At the beginning of the
century, " shorts of any colour, and white
stockings, were the only regular academical
dress," gaiters being forbidden. In 1812 an
order was made by the Seniors of Trinity and
St. John's that students who appeared in hall or
chapel in pantaloons or trousers should be con-
sidered as absent. So late as 18 15, Dr. Mansel at

Social Life. 295

Trinity threatened to put an undergraduate " out
of commons *' — that is, to deprivie him of the
means of obtaining food from the college, — for
appearing in hall in trousers instead of breeches
and gaiters. Shoes were worn on the feet ; boots
being especially forbidden. The change to
trousers took place between 1820 and 1830.
The older members of the University resisted the
innovation, and Dr. Proctor, Master of St.
Catharine's, who did not die till 1844, wore knee-
breeches, when in full dress, to the last ; and Dr.
Chapman, Master of Caius, who died in 1852,
always rode in breeches and top-boots. When
the writer was an undergraduate, the Dean at
Trinity constantly reproved those who wore their
gowns over a light-coloured coat ; and occasionally
such unruly persons were sent out of hall to change
the offending garment for one of a sober grey or
black. Professor Pryme gives the following inte-
resting account of the customs of his undergraduate
time ( 1 799-1 803) in these matters :

*' It was usual for the undergraduates, or at least the more
particular ones, to dress daily for the dinner in hall in white
waistcoats and white silk stockings, and there were persons
who washed them for us, as things too special for a common
laundress. There were two or three undergraduates who
wore powder. The rest of us wore our hair curled. It was
thought very rustic and unfashionable not to have it so.
Wigs were still worn by the Dons and Heads, with two or

296 • Cambridge.

three exceptions. Cory, the Master of Emmanuel, was, I have
heard, the first to leave his off, complaining of headache.
Dr. Barnes, of Peterhouse, preserved his to the last. In Mr.
Daniel Sykes's time, which was twenty years before mine,
the Senior Fellows of Trinity wore wigs, and he was, as he
told me long afterwards, concerned in a practical joke con-
cerning them. There was a barber's shop just within the
gate of Trinity, near Bishop's Hostel, where the Fellows
were powdered and the wigs dressed. It existed even in
my time. Sykes and some others bribed the barber one
Saturday night, when he had the Sunday wigs to dress, to
give them upj and getting out upon the library parapet,
placed them on the heads of the four statues which face the
hall. The next day the Seniors missing their best wigs were
in a state of great excitement, and obliged to go to dinner in
their old ones. Coming out of Hall into Neville's Court,
and looking up, they saw them on the statues. The per-
petrators were never found out."

So late as the summer of 1832, Professor
Pryme himself appeared at a dinner-party in his
own house in nankeen breeches, tied at the
knees with bunches of coloured ribbons, a blue
coat with brass buttons, and a bufF waistcoat.

College barbers have not been long extinct.
The last was Robert Bendall of Peterhouse, who
died in 1879. ^^ ^^^^ ^^ come round the
college in the morning, wake the men for chapel,
and shave them — the lazy ones in bed. Dr.
Woodham of Jesus, who did not take his
Master of Arts degree till 1842, has been heard
to say that he has seen a hairdresser curl the

Social Life. 297

Fellows' hair in the Combination Room before
they went to the Bachelors Ball. In the old
statutes of Trinity the barber was on the founda-
tion, like the cook. Most colleges had a barber's
shop. At King's, each Fellow paid for his own
shaving, but that of the Provost was defrayed by
the college. Until the popularity of the Volunteer
movement cast a military air over civilian manners,
the cultivation of beards and moustaches was
not allowed by the authorities. Dr. Whewell
set his face steadily against the practice ; and so
late as 1857 a scholar of Trinity, who was
afterwards elected to a fellowship, having returned
at the beginning of the October term with these
two ornaments on his countenance, was requested
by the Dean to remove them. He was a good-
looking fellow, and deeply deplored the loss of
so important an addition to his personal attrac-
tions. His regrets found vent in song, and he
published a new " Rape of the Lock," with
which the Dean was so much amused, that
he requested a copy, and a version in Latin
elegiacs. A few of the lines are worth quo-
tation :

" Farewell ! too little and too lately worn !

Let the rude breezes bear ye where they list :
For this defied I the chill dews of morn ?
In rain or sunshine ne'er a chapel missed ?

298 Cambridge,

Dean ! is thy seat so lofty that its snows

Have sunk into thy heart and settled there ?

Can my beard mar the heaven of thy repose ?
So great a man, and such a little hair ! **

The hours at which meals have been taken
at difFerent periods have been curiously altered/
To begin with dinner. In 1550, dinner in hall
was at ten o'clock and supper at five. This
was in accordance with the general practice of
the country, where, as Holinshed says, ''The
nobilitie, gentrie, and students do ordinarilie go
to dinner at eleven before noon, and to supper
at five, or between five and six, at afternoone.
The merchants dine and sup seldome before
twelve at noon and six at night, especiallie in
London." In the seventeenth centurv the hours
had moved on to eleven and six, except during
Sturbridge Fair, when supper was served at nine ;
and in the next century we find Oxford students
dining at twelve, to the great distress of a Con-
servative of that day, who notes in his diary,
" When laudable old customs alter 'tis a sign
learning dwindles." However, at Cambridge the
hour of twelve was maintained till near the end
of the century in all the colleges, and the students
afterwards attended regularly at the disputations
in the schools, which began at two. About 1785
the hour had been changed to one o'clock, and in

Social Life. 299

some colleges to two o'clock in vacation. Next
the hour became three o'clock, upon which altera-
tion Dr. Watson, then Regius Professor of
Divinity, writing in 18 18, thus laments himself:

" An evil custom has, within these few years, been intro-
duced into the University, which will in its consequences
destroy our superiority over Oxford, and leave our scholastic
exercises in as miserable a state as theirs have long been. It
is the custom of dining late. When I was admitted
[November, 1754], and for many years after, every college
dined at twelve o'clock, and the students after dinner flocked
to the philosophical disputations which began at two. If the
schools either of philosophy or divinity should ever be
generally destitute of an audience, there will be an end of
all scholastic exertions. I remember having seen the divinity
schools (when the best act — by Coulthurst and Milner,
Arcades umbo — was keeping that I ever presided at, and
which might justly be called a real academic entertainment),
filled with auditors from the top to the bottom ; but as soon
as the clock struck three, a number of Masters of Arts
belonging to colleges which dined at three slunk away from
this intellectual feast ; and they were followed, as might have
been expected, by many undergraduates. I say, 'as might
have been expected,' for in all seminaries of education
relaxation of discipline begins with the seniors of the

society."

It is always amusing to get the same event
described from two different points of view, and
therefore we will digress for a moment to quote
Gunning's description of this act, at which he was
present :

1

300 Cambridge.

*' The first opponent was Mr. Coulthurst, of Sidney
(afterwards Vicar of Halifax) ; he and the Respondent had
been repeatedly Moderators and Examiners, and in the dis-
charge of the duties of those offices had displayed consider-
able talent and attainments. In other respects no two men
could be more dissimilar. Milner was a man of immense
size, with a stentorian voice; Coulthurst was remarkably
small, with an extremely low but distinct voice. Milner
began his answer before the other had propounded his
argument, and Coulthurst continued his argument after it
had been answered. In point of fact, they both spoke at
the same time, and neither paid the least attention to what
the other said. The Professor two or three times made an
ineffectual attempt to enforce the acknowledged laws of
disputation, but they took no notice of his remarks, although
uttered in his usual solemn and dignified manner. He con-
sequently resumed his seat in despair, uttering only the two
words, ' Arcades ambo^^ and they were allowed to finish the
disputation in their own way.**

On another occasion Dr. Watson drew public
attention, in a very amusing manner, to the real
reason of gentlemen leaving the schools in such
haste ; namely, in order to reach their college hall
in time to save the fine — a bottle of wine — that
was then the invariable penalty for appearing five
minutes after the bell had ceased ringing. The
Vice-Chancellor's weekly dinner-parties were at
that time given on Sundays, at half-past one, and
his whole company went with him to St. Mary's,
where the sermon then began at three. Early in
the present century the dinner-hour advanced to

Social Life. 301

four o'clock, at which it remained until a few
years ago.

When dinner was early there was supper in the

hall — first at six or seven, and afterwards at a

quarter before nine. The meal, however, was not

,a favourite one, as undergraduates preferred to

sup in their own rooms, as more sociable. They

used to form themselves into parties, and each

man ordered the dish he fancied to be carried to

the room in which the entertainment was to take

place. The host supplied bread, butter, cheese,

and beer, with a " beaker " or large teapot full of

punch, which was kept on the hob. Wine was

not allowed. As these parties used to take place

at about eight o'clock, they could not have been

very different fi*om a plain dinner at the present

day.

The dinner at three or four o'clock was a great
inducement, especially among the Fellows, and in
winter, to cultivate the habits of deep drinking
that were, unfortunately, so common at the begin-
ning of the century. At the meal itself little or
no wine was taken, but at its close the company
retired to the Combination Room, where they not
unfrequently sat till supper-time, after which meal
those who were sober enough had " beakers " in
their own rooms ; and so . to bed, as Mr. Pepys
would have said. The twelve days of Christmas

302 Cambridge.

were, of course, kept in a specially exuberant
fashion ; songs, toasts, and sentiments, were given
in Combination Rooms, and I have heard Professor
Sedgwick relate how fortunate the Fellows of
Trinity once thought themselves in securing the
society of an Irish captain during that season,
whose comic humour and vocal powers were of no
ordinary kind. The practice of giving toasts was
always observed on feast-days in G>mbination
Rooms, and extended to private wine-parties, with
the same observances that Sheridan has introduced
into the supper scene in " The School for Scandal."
" The host," says Professor Pryme in his " Remi-
niscences," "named a Vice-President, and toasts
were given. First, a lady by each of the party,
then a gentleman, and then a sentiment. I re-
member one of those latter — * The single married,
and the married happy.' Some of them were puns,
and some not very decorous. Every one was
required to fill a bumper to the toasts of the
President, the Vice-President, and his own." How
formal this system must have been, and how
destructive of all rational conversation ! At the
parties of some of the " fastest " men, it was not
unusual to break the feet off the glasses in order
that bumpers might be drunk to all the toasts ;
and so long as a single bottle of wine remained in
the host's cellar his friends continued to drink, no

Social Life. 303

matter how late the hour might be. Early in the
present century, however, a resolute effort was
made by a few popular men to stop all attempts to
force the unwilling to drink, to be temperate them-
selves, to separate at chapel tinie, and not to return
afterwards. These rules were soon accepted gene-
rally, and uproarious wine-parties ceased. When
the writer was an undergraduate it was the custom
to give one in each term, to which a man asked his
entire acquaintance, quite without reference to the
capacity of his rooms to contain them. Those who
came early got seats — those who did not remained
standing — and after a decent interval went away.
Sometimes — if the host " kept " in lodgings — he
engaged a band of music. Itinerant musicians
used to walk the streets, and when they saw that
a wine-party was going on anywhere, sent upstairs
to offer their services. The whole affair was very
harmless, but very dull. The custom has died a
natural death of late years, since a later hour for
the hall-dinner has been accepted in most colleges.
A journey was not a thing to be lightly under-
taken sixty years since, and therefore a great many
of the Fellows, especially those whose homes were
in distant parts of England, resided in Cambridge
all the year round. For the same reason visits from
strangers were rare events. General society, too,
could scarcely be said to exist at Cambridge during

304 Cambridge.

the first quarter of the century. Hence the same
persons were in the habit of meeting, day after
day ; and, as a natural consequence, treated each
other with a rough-and-ready familiarity. Plainness
of speech, to an extent that would now-a-days shock
ears polite, characterised ordinary conversation ;
and huniorous stories were " Elizabethan " in their
phraseology. Personalities, such as would not now
be tolerated anywhere, were freely indulged in ;
and " satires or lampoons on particular people,"
like Sir Benjamin Backbite's " little productions,*'
circulated in the same manner, ^' by giving copies
in confidence to the friends of the parties." One
of the principal authors in this style was Lord
Mansel. Many of his epigrams, though he was
Master of Trinity, and Bishop of Bristol, need the
decent obscurity of a learned language; but one or
two may be quoted. The following was on the
marriage of the Master of Corpus Christi College
(then called Bene't College), a very thin man, with
an equally thin lady :

" Saint Paul has declared, that persons though twain
In marriage united one flesh shall remain ;
But had he been by when, like Pharaoh's kine pairing.
Dr. Douglas of Benet espoused Miss Mainwaring,
The Apostle, methinks, would have altered his tone.
And cried. These two splinters shall make but one bone ! "

The following satirised the conduct of Hinch-

Social Life. 305

clifFe, Master of Trinity and Bishop of Peter-
borough, who put a wretchedly bad singer into
the college choir because he had a vote for Peter-
borough :

*' A singing-man and yet not sing !

How justify your patron's bounty ?
Forgive me ; you mistake the thing :
My voice is in another county ! "

Mansel, after he became Master of Trinity,
was a grand personage, full of his own importance,
and disdainful to those whom he regarded as his
inferiors. It is to him that Byron refers in his
*^ Thoughts suggested by a College Examination":

*•' High in the midst, surrounded by his peers,
Magnus his ample front sublime uprears ;
Placed on his chair of state, he seems a god,
While Sophs and Freshmen tremble at his nod."

The following story affords a good illustration
of his character. Sir Busick Harwood, Professor
of Anatomy, between whom and Mansel there
had been a feud of long standing, gave a breakfast
in the garden of his house, near Emmanuel
College. Being anxious to show every con-
sideration to the great man, he placed a young
nobleman, who was at the time an undergraduate
of Trinity, at the same table, unconscious or
oblivious of the fact, that it was sacrilege to bring

21

3o6 Cambridge.

a human being so low in the social scale of the
University " between the wind and his nobility."
Before breakfast was half over, Mansel got up
suddenly, ordered his carriage, and took his leave.
Next morning Lady Harwood entreated her
husband to go to Trinity Lodge and inquire
whether he was ill, or whether they had un-
consciously offended him in any way. Sir
Busick, most unwillingly, acceded to her urgent
solicitations. He found Mansel in his study,
looking, like Mr. Nupkins, " gloomily grand, and
savagely vexed." "I have come, my Lord, on
the part of myself and Lady Harwood, to in-
quire " began the Professor. ' Before he could

finish his sentence Mansel thundered out, " Sir
Busick, I am a peer of the realm, God knows how

unworthy " " God knows, and so do I," said

the other, and vanished.

In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries
Tutor and Pupil stood in a close and even
affectionate relation to each other. We have
seen that occasionally they occupied the same
chamber ; and it must further be remembered
that the number of students proceeding to
degrees was infinitely smaller than at present,
so that a tutor could not only educate all
his pupils, but understand their characters by
personal intercourse. Sir Symonds d'Ewes, who

i

Social Life. 307

was admitted at St. John's in 16 18, speaks
frequently in his diary of Mr. Richard Holds-
worth, whom he styles *^ my loving tutor/' and
records his gratitude for his kindness in taking
walks with him and treating him as an equal.
By degrees those relations were done away with.
Various reasons, such, for instance, as the follow-
ing, have been assigned for the change. Older
men ceased to share rooms with undergraduates ;
increase in numbers made intercourse ceremonious
and insincere ; political differences brought about
suspicion and estrangement. Whatever may
have been the cause, the broad fact remains
that little by little a spirit of donnishness crept
into the University, and soon reigned supreme
there. For a century or more the older and
the younger men saw very little of each other.
A fellow-commoner now and then sought the
society of the Fellows whom he met at the
high table ; but more frequently he regretted
his isolation from the men of his own age and
standing, and made his escape as soon as dinner
was over. This change of feeling was another
instance of the way in which the Universities
reflect the tone of the country. In the last
century a man addressed his father as "Sir,"
and, so far as we can judge from contemporary
literature, regarded him with fear, and not un-

3o8 Cambridge.

frequently with dislike. In the first half of
the present century the new literary tastes and
new political opinions that became prevalent
among young men, notwithstanding the almost
proverbial Toryism of young Englishmen, made
the breach wider still. A college tutor, popularly
supposed to stand towards his pupils in the
relation of a father, came to know so little
about them, that the following anecdote is not
incredible. One of the tutors of a large college
desired his servant to go and invite a pupil^
whom he had not seen for some time, to take
wine with him after hall. " Mr. So-and-so, sir ?
He died three terms ago." "You ought to tell
me when my pupils die," replied the Don. We
do not vouch for the literal accuracy of this
incident, but it illustrates the estrangement that
existed between those who ought to have been
teachers and those who should have been taught.
It is almost needless to add that unruliness and
excess became the rule, rather than the exception ;
and sixty years since the morality and the
behaviour of the young men at the University
was not of the best. The famous — or perhaps
we should rather say infamous — letter of Mr. R.
M. Beverley to the Duke of Gloucester (then
Chancellor of the University), published in 1833,
had, no doubt, a germ of truth beneath the gross

Social Life. 309

exaggerations and wilful misrepresentations with
which it is filled. The pamphlet is now almost
forgotten, or remembered only for the manly
and crushing reply that it elicted from Professor
Sedgwick — a denunciation that Junius himself
might not have disdained to sign. At the time
of its publication, however, it made a great noise,
and the numerous replies to it that were published
are a proof that it was not all invention. If a
malevolent scribbler were to write such an article
in such a style now-a-days, not a soul would
think it worth his while to answer a word.

Many causes have contributed to bring about
a better state of things since ; and nothing could
be healthier than the feeling that now exists
between authorities and undergraduates. As an
instance of the resentment that was sometimes
excited before this excellent consummation was
effected, we will refer to the amusing squabble
about attendance at chapel at Trinity in 1838.
At the beginning of the Lent Term in that year,
the Master and Seniors had agreed "that all
Undergraduates, Scholars, and Foundation Sizars,
do attend chapel eight times at least in every
week, that is, twice on Sunday and once on
every other day," on pain of sundry penalties ;
and finally, after three formal admonitions from
Dean, Tutor, and Master, **the offender shall.

3 1 o Cambridge,

ipso factOy be removed from the College, either
entirely, or for one or more Terms." This novel
severity was met by a singular expedient. A
number of men enrolled themselves as *' T!be
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Under-
graduates i''* one or more of their number made
a point of attending every chapel, and noted the
attendance of the Fellows. The result was
published in a weekly paper, which was cir-
culated in Cambridge, and even in London,
where it found its way into the Clubs and some
of the newspapers. The remarks that these
impudent youngsters appended to their weekly
records are very entertaining. On February 24th,
the second week of the existence of the institu-
tion, we read :

" The Society, though gratified to find that their labours
have had the effect of producing more regularity on the
whole ^ among the Fellows, will not relax in their endeavours
to promote the cause of Religion. Eight Chapels are all that
they require to be kept, and should any Fellow, through
illness, be unable to attend, on sending a note to the Secretary
of the Society, he will be excused."

On March 3rd it is announced that :

" A prize for general regularity and good behaviour when
in Chapel has been instituted by the Society, who are as
anxious to reward merit as they are to punish immorality.
But, whilst they thus wish to instil into the minds of the

Social Life. 311

Fellows those Religious feelings which, owing to a bad
education, they may possibly be without, the Society most
distinctly declare that they shall not be guided merely by an
outward show of religion. It is not, therefore, enough to go
merely eight times a week to Chapel, and when there to
utter the responses so loud as to attract attention, or otherwise
disturb the prayers of Undergraduates. Such conduct will at
all times be severely punished. But there will be a general
examination of the Fellows at the end of each term, when
they will be classed according to their merits."

On March loth the following note appeared :

" The Society regret much that during the last week great
laxity has prevailed among the Fellows in general with
regard to their attendance in Chapel. This is the more to
be lamented, as they had been for the two previous weeks so
much more regular than usual. This irregularity cannot
proceed from ill health, for they have been constantly to
Hall, although they are not compelled to go there more than
FrvE times each week. The Society, however, still hope
that in the ensuing week they will be able to make a more
favourable report both of their attendance in Chapel as also
of their good conduct when there. As was before stated, any
Fellow who shall, owing to any wine-party, or other sufficient
reason, be prevented from attending, will be excused on
sending a note previously to the Secretary of the Society, and
his absence will be counted as presence."

Then they drew up an average of the attendance
of each Fellow for a month, in a tabular form, with
the average for each of the four weeks exactly
calculated. Of the seventeen Fellows one has zero
appended to his name, another '75, and even

312 Cambridge.

the three tutors. do not exceed 6|, 6, and 4.
No wonder we find the foot-note, " Why
then do they not set us a better example? "
This observation went to the root of the
whole matter. The Fellows did not so
much as attempt to understand the Under-
graduates. It would not be difficult to find
individual instances of friendship and sympathy ;
but as a general rule the two bodies were
opposing forces who regarded each other with
suspicion and dislike. " The place would be
agreeable enough to live in, were it not for the
Town and the Undergraduates," said a learned
Professor. But to return to Trinity. At the
end of the sixth week the Masters and Seniors
altered their regulations, and announced that
they would be content with six chapels in each
week instead of eight. The undergraduates on
their side announced that the '^ Chapel Lists "
would be discontinued ; and, as a last shot at
the now retreating enemy, they published a Class
List, in the form used at a college examination,
in which the Fellows were divided into four
classes, according to their number of attendances.
Two names appear in italics below the last
class, as not worthy to be classed at all. The
first class contained only three names : those
of the Senior and Junior Dean, and of Mr.

I!

■s

I

Social Life. 315

Perry, afterwards Bishop of Melbourne. The
former, being obliged in virtue of their office to
attend twice daily, were held to be disqualified
for the prize with which it was intended to
reward the most regular attendant at chapel.
Mr. Perry, therefore, who had attended sixty-
six times during the period of examination,
received a copy of the Bible, handsomely bound,
and the following note was appended to the
last publication of the Society :

" The Prize Medal for regular attendance at chapel, and
good conduct when there, has been awarded to Mr. Perry,
who has passed an examination highly creditable 10 * himself
and family.* He was only 18 marks below the highest
number which he could possibly have gained. It is, there-
fore, to be hoped Mr. P. will be more regular and do still
better next term.

" N.B. — With respect to the two Gentlemen who are not
classed, the Secretary need hardly say that he does not envy
them their feelings on the present occasion.'*

Our sketches of University life and manners
would be incomplete without some reference to
the Heads of Colleges. In an earlier chapter we
described the position of the Head before the
Reformation when he was in reality, and not
merely in name, the supreme director of the body
corporate over which he presided. After the
Reformation, when permission to marry had been

3 1 6 Cambridge.

conceded, and the simple Master's chamber of
earlier days had been enlarged into a comfortable,
not to say luxurious, Lodge, the Master of
necessity lived apart from the Fellows of his
college. The government of the University was,
to a great extent, in the hands of the Heads, who,
in the case of numerous offices, had the right of
nominating two candidates for election, of whom
the Senate chose one ; and, moreover, as assessors
to the Vice- Chancellor, they acquired by custom a
far wider power than had been conceded to them
by statute. Nothing could be imagined better in
theory than that the persons who represented
individual colleges should form the united govern-
ment of the University ; and so^long as the Heads
associated with the Fellows in daily intercourse
the scheme probably worked well. But after they
began to live apart, they had fewer opportunities
of appreciating the ideas and feelings of even
their own colleges ; and as these became larger it
became impossible for the Head to perform the
multifarious duties that had been imposed upon
him in simpler times. Consequently the Heads
were constrained, by the necessities of their
unfortunate position, to separate themselves from
the rest of the University, and to associate only
with one another.

This preface is necessary for the right under-

Social Life. 317

standing of the condition of Society which we
purpose briefly to illustrate. What we are about
to say refers, it must be remembered, to a state of
things which died a natural death with the Eliza-
bethan statutes. Moreover, the persons to whom
our reminiscences allude have all passed away, and
their sayings and doings have become the common
property of the public.

Sixty years since society at Cambridge was
divided broadly into two classes — those who were
Heads of Houses and those who were not. The
former were the aristocracy ; and no Grand Duke
of a minute territory, no cathedral dignitary, no
Head Master of a great school — no, not even Dr.
Keate himself in his most autocratic days — was
ever hedged about with a more awful dignity, or
exacted a more implicit obedience. " You ought
to remember, sir, the immeasurable distance
between an undergraduate and the Master of his
college," said Dr. Mansel, on a certain occasion,
to an unlucky youngster who ventured to address
him. For this speech there might have been
some justification ; but there was none for the
spirit of arrogance and self-assertion that was the
peculiar characteristic of those seventeen oligarchs
towards even the oldest and ablest of the academic
body. From the hour that an individual became
Master of his college, he was raised (In his own

3 1 8 Cambridge.

estimation) into a higher region, whence he looked
down with contemptuous pity on the less-favoured
many, even though some of them might have been
his oldest and most intimate friends. Damon and
Pythias might have taken their daily walks to-
gether along the Trumpington Road for many years;
but should Damon be elected Master, he would
next day give Pythias two fingers, and address
him formally as Mr. Pythias in conversation or in
writing. When a Head of a college gave a dinner-
party sixty years since, he invited Heads only.
That exceptions to this rule were so rare that they
may be neglected in a general statement of the
characteristics of the Order. If such an invitation
was issued, it was a royal command, and not even
the death of an intimate friend was admitted as
an excuse. This exclusiveness survived to com-
paratively modern times to such an extent that
even after a more general intercourse was per-
mitted, and Heads had begun to visit Professors,
the only son of the host was not allowed to dine
at his own father's table because, forsooth, the
Master of his college was expected there as a
guest ! At the beginning of the present century.
Dr. Mansel had condescended to unbend some-
what, and to give less solemn entertainments.
That august person had six unmarried daughters,
and possibly some thoughts of their settlement in

Social Life. 319

life may have influenced him. Professor Pryme
relates that evening parties at Trinity Lodge were
not uncommon at which music was given, and
sometimes " a dance was improvised, for which
the Master would himself turn an organ." That,
however, was in 1809 ; but twenty years later a
far greater exclusiveness had become the rule. So
complete was the social severance between the
Heads and the rest of the University that con-
siderable curiosity was felt by each half of the
academic world as to the sayings and doings of
the other. "What do you talk about in your
society ! " said the wife of a Head to the wife of
a Professor in 1829, "is it amusing.'^" Just
about that time, however, a bold innovation was
made, which stirred the University to its depths.
Mr. Serjeant Frere had just been made Master of
Downing, and, being an enlightened person who
had passed most of his life in London, saw no
reason why the good folks of Cambridge should
not amuse themselves according to the fashions
of the metropolis. So Mrs. Frere, who sang
divinely, gave musical parties in the Lodge itself,
and tableaux vivants also, which were much
admired ; and at last (I vow my hand shakes so
with horror at the very thought of it that I can
hardly make my pen write down the awful
profanation) she got up The Rivals and The Critic

320 Cambridge.

in the College Hall ! One of her first evening
parties took place after a solemn symposium given
to an assemblage of Heads. They had not been
made aware of what was about to happen, and it
was remarked afterwards, by the wife of one of
them, " Some people came in in the evening — of
course we went away."

University society is subject to very frequent
changes, as the older members leave and the
younger take their places. In the second quarter
of the present century it was more than usually
brilliant. The long dinners in College Hall had
been given up, except on rare occasions of high
festival, and the Fellows delighted to go into
general society of an evening. There were musical
parties, under the auspices of Professor Smyth and
Mrs. Frere, dramatic entertainments, sparingly and
somewhat grudgingly permitted, and numerous
dinner-parties, enlivened by conversation which
ranged from the deepest to the lightest themes.
Men of the highest literary and scientific distinc-
tion — such men as Dr. Whewell, Dr. Peacock,
Mr. Thirlwall, Dr. Turton, Mr. Hare, -Mr.
Worsley, and Professor Sedgwick — drew each
other out, capped each other's stories, or took
opposite sides in argument. At times, especially
if Dr. Whewell were present, conversation became
a monologue. It was said by Sydney Smith that

Social Life, 321

" Science was his forte and omniscience his foible."
He delighted in taking up a subject, and delivering
his opinions upon it, while the rest of the com-
pany listened respectfully. Some might be dis-
appointed of an opportunity for placing their own
witticism, or for urging their own views ; but the
speaker handled his theme in so masterly a style,
that his hearers accepted his despotic ways without
a murmur. Once, and once only, says tradition,
an attempt was made to dethrone him. A party
of the Fellows of his own College got up carefully
the subject of Chinese music, and adroitly turned
the conversation towards it in the Combination
Room. Mr. Whewell joined in for a while, and
then became silent, while they went on, delighted
at the thought that for once the conversation was
in their own hands. The triumph, however, was
short-lived, for Whewell presently thundered out,
"Ah ! I see. you have been getting up an article I
wrote some years ago in an Encyclopaedia ; but I
have altered my views since then." Miss Caroline
Fox tells us in her charming diary that when
Whewell met them in Cornwall in 1859 her
father " got from him a formal contradiction of
the choice story about Chinese music, which was a
pity, but he says he never wrote on the subject,
only on Greek music." The imaginary incident,
however is very characteristic of Whe well's as-

22

322 Cambridge,

tonishing familiarity with all sorts of out-of-the-
way subjects ; and, it may be added, of his habit
of laying down the law in an imperious fashion
which made him extremely unpopular with those
who did not understand him. Professor Sedgwick
did not engross the conversation as Whewell did.
His own geniality inspired those with whom he
came into contact, and any party at which he was
present was sure to go oiF we'll. He had a really
marvellous aptitude for story-telling. The adven-
tures of Elizabeth Woodcock, for instance, who w^as
buried in the snow near Cambridge in February,
1799, for eight days, grew, in his narrative of
them, into a wonderfully dramatic story, humorous
and pathetic by turns ; and his recollections of his
earlier days were as picturesque as they were
amusing. One of these, relating to Mr. William
Pugh, shall be given in his own words :

" Mr. Pugh, before he had been Fellow of Trinity for
long (he was elected about 1790) was deeply affected by the
horrors of the French Revolution. He was a man of great
reading and studious habits ; and, among other things, was
engaged upon the catalogue of the printed books in the
University Library. There, instead of reading only the title-
pages, he read the works themselves through, and thus, while
he got on slowly with the catalogue, he laid up a vast store
of knowledge, especially in the pamphlets published at that
time ; so much so, that when Dr. Parr dined in Trinity
College some thirty years afterwards, Pugh, though he had
been mad in the interval, and for twenty years had never

Social Life, 323

opened a book, was yet able, from his excellent memory, to
quote pages and pages from the pamphlets of that time.
Pugh and Dr. Parr were of opposite politics ; Pugh was a
strong Conservative, Parr an equally strong Whig ; so that
when the former was seen to take the chair as Vice-Master,
with Parr on his right hand, everyone expected an un-
pleasant scene. But, luckily, the conversation turned upon
the literature of the early years of the French Revolution,
with which Parr was equally well acquainted. So for hours
and hours they capped each other with stories and quotations ;
till at last Pugh referred to a pamphlet * which,' said he,
* I wonder had so little influence, and so little popularity ;
for I was very much struck with one passage in particular ;
and if you would like to hear it. Dr. Parr, I think I can repeat
it to you.* He then proceeded to repeat without hesitation
about a page and a half, after which he rose to go, and
turning to Dr. Parr, said, ' I thank you. Doctor, for the very
pleasant evening we have had together ; and as for that
pamphlet, I think you know more of the author than I do.*
So saying, he left the room. When he was gone. Parr said, * I
was the author of that pamphlet, but it fell dead. I have
never read it since, and I give you my honour that I could
not have repeated a line of it myself.'

" Well, about his madness. For a long while he was very
strange ; he dreaded the society of everybody ; he never left
his rooms for any purpose whatever ; he would not let his
bed-maker enter them, but, at a stated hour every day, used
to open the door a little, take in his breakfast, and slam it to
again. One morning, very early, he was seen by the porter
to walk across the court in a mistrustful manner, looking
behind him, and to the right and left, with the utmost circum-
spection, and so go into the Bowling Green, which in those
days was not closed with a grating as it is now. On his
shoulders he carried n large white bundle. This he was seen
to carry to the terrace overlooking the river, and there pitch

324 Cambridge.

it over into the Cam. Search was made for it, and it was
fished up. It was found to contain all his dirty linen, re-
mains of his food, &c., which had become too foul to be
endured longer. This was not thought sufficient proof of
insanity to warrant his being sent out of residence. Soon
after, however, the town was thrown into consternation by
the frequent breaking of the lamps. Night after night several
were found broken, no one knew by whom. The Mayor
offered a reward, but still the culprit remained undetected.
At last the College porter observed that Pugh was in the
habit of going out after the gates were closed. So a servant
was set to watch, and, the next time Pugh went out, followed
him at a distance. He went down Jesus Lane, and, when he
came to the Common, turned to the left along Jesus* Ditch.
There he presently went down to the water's edge, and, from
among flags and weeds, brought up a long stick. This he
seized, and hurried back to the street. No sooner had he
got there than the frenzy seemed to seize him. He gnashed
his teeth, and rushed along like a madman. Presently he
caught sight of a lamp, made for it, and exclaiming with
a loud oath * You are Robespierre ! * dashed it to pieces
with his stick. So he went on with the others, crying out
* Danton ! ' * St. Just ! ' and other names, till he had broken
six or eight. Then he returned to the ditch, hid his
stick, and made his way back to College. After this he
was requested to leave, and put under the care of a keeper.
He recovered, however, and returned to College, and, though
he had still a somewhat wild look, behaved with perfect
propriety. His judgment was considered extremely good,
and in the Fellowship Examination his opinion was preferred
to that of most other examiners. His memory was such that
he could trust to it when others had to refer to the author,
as in the case of the Greek tragedians.*'

With this anecdote our reminiscences of the

Social Life. 325

Social Life of Cambridge sixty years since must
come to an end. When those of the present de-
cade are written the annalist who takes the subject
in hand will have a very different picture to draw.
He will find the number of undergraduates more
than doubled, and engaged in a multiplicity of
studies and interests, which oifer a lively contrast
to the sameness of the course along which their
ancestors were compelled to plod. He will have
to notice, too, the realisation of the dreams of that
Princess whose educational views were set forth by
the Poet Laureate ; and though there are as yet
no ^^ sweet girl graduates" tripping to the Senate
House on Degree Day, there are signs which in-
dicate that even that alteration may be nearer than
some suppose. In the opinion of many excellent
well-wishers to Cambridge the death-knell of her
fame as a place of education would be sounded if
this were to be brought about, or if in sundry
other ways that we need not further particularise
she were to accept changes that begin to be
demanded, with no uncertain sound, from without.
We do not share these apprehensions ; we believe
firmly that

**The old order changeth, giving place to new.
And God fulfils Himself in many ways,
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world."

VNWIN BROTHERS,
CHILWORTH AND LONDON.

In Large Crown 8vo, Price 6s., Cloth.

Oxford.

Brief Historical and Descriptive

Notes.

By ANDREW LANG.

JVit/i many Illustrations.

" A book which overflows with anecdotes, sketches, and his-
torical reminiscences, told in Mr. Lang's best style, and beautifully
illustrated ." — Literary Churchman,

In Imperial 8vo, Price i6s., Cloth, Gilt Edges.

Isis and Thamesis.

Hours on the River from Oxford to

Henley.

By ALFRED J. CHURCH, M.A.

With Twelve Etchings and many minor Illustra-
tions.

*' To the lover of the Thames this will be a very pleasant book.
The delight of the author in his ancient haunts is simply and grace-
fully expressed, and we have enjoyed reading what he has written
as much as we have enjoyed looking at what the artists who have
contributed to the book have drawn." — Spectator.

London : Seeley & Co., Limited, Essex St., Strand.